


Ad Astra Per Aspera

by Riverchester



Series: Ad Astra Per Aspera [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Internalized Homophobia, Light Angst, Misunderstandings, Multi, Mutual Pining, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-01-17 01:12:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 70,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12354336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riverchester/pseuds/Riverchester
Summary: A misunderstood conversation leads to his brother, his co-worker and a client thinking he questions his sexuality.Only after Dean can clarify the mistake, a certain blue-eyed man keeps popping up in his mind and slowly topples the mental picture of his picket fence dream.What if you turn out to be the happiest you've ever been in a way you never imagined your life to be? And what if you're the only one holding yourself back from achieving it?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone. I hope you enjoyed the season 13 premiere.
> 
> The ideas and notes to this fic have been on my harddrive for so long, and I finally found the time to start writing it. I'm a bit nervous, because it's only my second "longer" fic, and it's going to be the first time I'll include explicit sexual content. It isn't Beta read, so no one with English as their native language has taken a look at it. I still hope it's mostly correct in grammar and spelling
> 
> Smut and Angst will follow in later chapters and I will add warnings in the notes when time has come. Until then, I really hope you enjoy it <3

The sound of heels on concrete floor makes Dean aware of the presence of a woman even before her lower legs come into his field of vision. From under the car he is currently working on, he can see her right foot tap in an expectant way that makes him roll his eyes. He quickly tightens the last screw on the Thunderbird and crawls from under it to greet the brunette.

“Hello Bela,” he says while walking over to the sink to wash off the grease, “Didn’t expect you today. To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”

Dean can mentally see her raising an eyebrow behind his back, when she starts to speak.

“I’m just making sure you don’t mess up with this beauty here.”

“You know I don’t, so what is it?” he sighs. It’s the third car he restores for one of Bela’s clients and not the first time she comes by to keep a sharp eye on him.

She’s a versatile businesswoman doing a bit of everything, but mostly she works as an antique dealer, traveling through the states for rarities. Dean was more than surprised to see her again after their first meeting about a year ago, when he fixed her silver Mercedes SL. Only a month later she came back with a beautiful Porsche 911 she found in someone’s shed and bought for one of her most important clients. The sports car was in a rather bad condition and she hired Dean to get it to shine like new. At first, Dean thought it was a joke, but the check he got for advance payment was no joke at all.

They became kind of partners after the Porsche was well received by Bela’s client, who apparently collects classic cars, and she brought in another beauty before she called him two months ago for the Thunderbird. All through the process of restoration, Bela is his contact, not her client, so they have at least a quick phone call every week.

“I really came to see how far you are,” she says.

Although Dean guesses he would regret it, he plays along. “The seats are done, I’ll finish the dashboard probably tomorrow and then it’s only the paintwork,” he answers.

“Sounds great,” she waits for as second before continuing, “well, as I’m already in Lawrence and it’s almost six, why don’t you pack up and take me out for dinner?”

Dean closes his eyes for a moment and sighs. He knew this was coming. They started flirting right from the beginning. It was fun, a little wink here and there, some obvious advances, but Dean knows that Bela wants nothing more than a quick, passionate affair, maybe a friends-with-benefits situation – although it would rather be a business-partner-with-benefits situation – and that’s not, what Dean searches for, so he stopped after some time. Not that he would want to have a sincere relationship with her. She is quite attractive but just too _difficult_ for him.

He tried to tell her that he’s not interested, but that seemed to rather encourage her attempts. Then he pointed out it wouldn’t be a good idea because of their professionalism, to which she just laughed and declared she could separate both. It really got out of hand, like she aims to prove him that he wants her. Dean even went as far as stating his seven years old son as the reason he doesn’t want to go out with Bela, although she knows that Ben is not living with him. If this goes on, he might need to tell her the real reason. But she probably wouldn’t even let that count.

At an age of thirty-one, it is absolutely okay to plan for the long haul and to search for the security a house and a long-term relationship can offer. As it is, Dean still lives in the same apartment he rented years ago, typically designed for a single-household, and the longest relationship he can remember holding up was really not that long at all. Overall, he has a reputation for being rather uncommitted with the girls he dates. It worked out great in the past, where he spent more time at work than in his apartment and couldn’t think of anything more than a fling. But times change, and so did Dean. He has come a long way to indulge in being proud of his achievements and to feel free to plan ahead for a future he never thought he might be able to get, a picket fence dream no one but himself has to know about.

Watching his little brother build a live with his girlfriend – and probably soon fiancée – Eileen, Dean slowly but steadily realized that this is what he wants. He gets too old for random hookups and the morning walk-of-shame. He wants a family, a wife and maybe another child or two, who he can come home to. A reason to leave work early other than to hang out in a bar. He was tightly occupied over the past years forging his life around work and spending time with his son. Now that he is in a position where he has put aside some money to buy a house and his shop runs smoothly enough so that he’s able to take much more free time than he could before, Dean craves nothing more than to make his picket fence dream come true. And even if it means that he hasn’t dated anyone in months, he doesn’t want to have another quick fling.

Dean must have been absentminded for a while, because Bela is staring at him with wide, expecting eyes. And because he has no other idea anymore to get rid of her advances, Dean gives the truth a chance.

“It's not about you Bela,” he starts and slaps himself for the cliché wording, “You're strikingly attractive and I bet we could have fun together, but… to be honest, I'm not into dating _any_ women at the moment,” he waits a second when he sees her eyes widen before he continues carefully, “I hope you know what I mean. There's a lot of stuff running in my mind I need to get sorted out. About what I want my future to look like and crap like that,” he tries to lighten his own mood with a plastic laugh, “and… yeah, I guess it's just not an option right now.”

It's the first time since Dean met her that she doesn't return a snarky comment. She's apparently taken aback for a second. After nearly a minute of ongoing silence, Dean gets nervous.

“I’m not good with words,” he says, “You probably didn’t get what I was trying to say…”

“No, no,” she interrupts him, “I mean, yes, I know what you mean, well I guess. It’s just… I have to admit, I haven't seen this coming. I mean, you don't appear to me like a guy with this interest. It's a cliché thing, I know. The cars and your rock music and the muscles and everything give off a certain vibe…”

Dean has to chuckle to himself. She’s not wrong. People usually assume he’s the macho type of guy who doesn’t want to make any commitments, maybe he is in some sort of way.

“I know. But it’s not like you can identify this from appearance,” he answers.

“Sometimes you can.”

“Yeah, cardigans with v-necks,” Dean says and makes a face, “I’m not getting one of those. You can shoot me the day I do!”

Bela starts laughing and it’s funny, because Dean realizes that he’s never seen her laugh before.

“No, you can keep that flannel-and-leather-look,” she chuckles, “I’m not the only audience to have a thing for that.”

“Good to know.”

They both smile and it’s not plastic but genuine. For a moment Dean tries to remember why he hasn’t tried the truth before. Ah, yeah, because that’s what reasonable adults do, and he is Dean Winchester.

“Well, my flirting was a bit inappropriate then, I guess,” she sighs.

“Maybe, but you didn’t know. And in your defense, I flirted back at first.”

“You’re right, not my fault,” she declares with a laugh and winks at him before she adds, “You’re still my first-choice mechanic.”

That makes Dean exhale, because even though he didn’t spend time on that thought, he now realizes he could have lost a very good customer to rejecting her.

“I’m glad to hear that, I might need the money in the future. So… we’re good?”

“Of course we’re good. Don’t think I would go home and cry over not getting you in my bed. Just call me when the Thunderbird is ready so I can pick it up.”

With the same sound of her heels on the concrete, she leaves through the partially open door and Dean is both confused and relieved about how this conversation went off. He takes a sip from his water bottle still standing on the floor and mentally checks off the main problem he had over the past weeks. Because he turns on his old tape player on full volume to continue his work on the Ford, he doesn’t hear the person coming into the room. So, when a hand carefully taps on his shoulder, Dean jumps at the touch and swears he got a heart attack. Standing behind him is Garth, one of his employed mechanics.

“Garth, man, you scared the shit out of me,” he shouts over the music.

The other man’s answer is not to understand, so Dean quickly turns the music off.

“Hey, Dean. Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Garth says.

“Is there something? Problems with the pickup?”

“No, that’s already done. I came by to tell you but Bela was still in here and I didn’t want to interrupt you, so I waited.” Garth pauses for a moment and Dean wonders if it will take long to get the essential information in this conversation out of the shorter man. “I really didn’t mean to listen… but I kind of overheard you talking to her.”

“So?” Dean has absolutely no clue what his employee is trying to tell him. But then again, he usually puzzles over what is going on in this man’s mind. He still remembers the job interview, where he nearly sent Garth away after the first minutes of their conversation, and how utterly impressed he’s been with the other man’s skills under the hood of a car.

“I knew that she was hitting on you and that you brushed it off more than once, but I honestly thought it’s because she’s not your type. With her high-flown attitude and everything,” Garth continues.

Dean has to laugh at that. Yes, maybe she really is a bit extravagant in comparison to the girls he’s used to be seen with, but he knows it himself and the people around him also know he never turned down an attractive woman before.

“Yeah, not the case here,” he says.

“I have to admit it’s unexpected news about you, but I support you. It’s brave to tell her something this personal. If you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m here.” Garth hugs him while speaking, something Dean got used to over time. “I have no experience in that field, but I’m a very good listener, so don’t hesitate, Dean.” He adds.

And again, Dean is more than confused by the shorter man’s reaction. But that’s just how Garth handles things; he takes everything serious and wants to help even if no help is required.

“Okay, buddy, I keep it in mind,” Dean says and awkwardly pats him on the back, “I wouldn’t call it brave, what I did, just unusual for me to open up. But hey, it worked much better than I would’ve thought. And technically it’s not even a topic to be shy about. It’s not like I’ve got the herps.”

For a moment, Dean thinks that STD’s probably would have worked too as an excuse, but he quickly discards this idea. That would’ve gone definitely too far.

“No, but really, I think it’s brave to open up about a topic like this to a person you barely know from work,” Garth replies.

“Well, it's not like I want to keep it a secret. It's just… not really something you just integrate into conversation. Not quite the kind of topic we all talk about all day.”

“No, not really. Does Sam know?”

Dean has to think about that for a second. He usually keeps his thoughts to himself and never approached his little brother about his plans for the future. The noisy giant of a lawyer would write down a step-by-step ‘how-to-reach-your-goals’ list and never stop wanting to help. Dean shivers at the thought that Sam might even try to set him up with someone. But as much as Dean hates help from his, in his eyes, baby brother he knows that Sam is very perceptive and probably already figured him out.

“Kind of,” he says and rubs the back of his neck, “We never talked about it. I never said it out loud before, but that little shit knows me quite well. He probably just thinks I wouldn't wanna talk about it so he shuts up.”

Garth leans forward and embraces Dean again in a tight hug.

“You're a great guy, Dean. Your family and friends will surely support you, whatever you decide to do.”

It’s getting a bit out of hand and although Dean is positively surprised how good it feels to just talk about his feelings for once, it’s definitely enough for one day and starts to feel awkward.

“Okay. That's enough touchy-feely for today. I get going. It's Jo's turn to lock up, so you can also leave as soon as you want.”

He makes his way around Garth and escapes a third hug only by a hair’s breadth, before he starts putting away all of his used tools for the night. Garth says his goodbye and is gone by the time Dean has neatly organized his workplace. He is very strict with how he wants his garage to look like, especially the room reserved for the restoration of classic cars. The rest of his shop might look a bit chaotic from time to time, but as he is loaded with orders of old beauties for more than two years now, he barely ever sets his hand to the more regular cars with broken exhaust pipes and other standard defects anymore. He knows that he’s only able to indulge in his passion of classic cars because he has capable and reliable mechanics working for him.

Benny, who worked with him even before Dean took over the shop from his surrogate father Bobby, even deals with some paperwork. Garth is an employee everybody would want to have. He never complains, even if he has to stay longer for an hour or two to get a car fixed, or when he does nothing but boring oil changes for a week. And since last year, when Dean had Bela’s orders adding to his busy schedule, Jo works for him, too. She’s the daughter of Bobby’s second wife, Ellen Harvelle, and started college after high school but soon realized, she is much better working with her hands, than writing essays on a daily basis.

After turning out the light and saying goodbye to the short blonde woman still working under the hood of a Prius, Dean makes his way outside. It’s a muggy summer evening and his from work already sweaty shirt gets nearly soaked and sticks to his skin within the short distance to his baby. The 1967 Chevrolet Impala was the first car Dean restored. It’s an ongoing job to keep the over forty years old lady as shiny black and smooth running as she is now.

Only stopping to get some Chinese food, Dean enters his two-bedroom apartment at seven and takes a quick shower before he flops himself into the cushions of his sofa. Fast food and reality TV is just the right thing after a busy day.

 

\----------

 

Since Sam has been old enough to drive and had enough money for his own car, he brought it to Dean’s garage for check-ups and whenever it’s been broken, the only exception being his studies in Stanford. So when he got a job in Overland Park shortly after finishing his law degree, it’s been beyond question who would take care of his eco- and family-friendly car, whenever the damage makes it possible to drive the forty-five minutes to Lawrence. Sam spotted his blinker to not work properly at times on the weekend, maybe a loose contact, and uses his short day at work on Monday to get it taken care of in his brother’s shop.

No one stands behind the counter, when Sam enters the building. He knows the place well enough to follow a short hall to the main work place. Dean is nowhere to be seen, but Garth is working on a car. Maybe he should have called in before making his way over to Lawrence, to see if they have time for him.

“Hey Sam,” Garth greets from across the room.

“Hey, Garth. My brother not here?” Sam greets back.

“No. He left early to pick up Ben. School started again today,” the quirky man answers.

That makes sense. His nephew came back on Saturday from a trip with Lisa’s parents and Dean hasn’t seen his son in two weeks, so of course he took the first opportunity to pick up Ben from school.

“Oh, okay. I came over because my blinker makes some problems, but I see you are busy so it’s probably a bad timing,” Sam says.

“Oh, no, it’s not,” Garth exclaims and makes his way over to the taller man, “let me take a look at it. If it’s nothing serious, I’ll fix it quickly, so you can drive back home.”

“Thanks. Open the roll-up and I get my car in here.”

Once Sam’s car is in place, the two men start talking about the weather, the latest sport results and work. Just small talk while the mechanic fumbles with the headlights.

“I looked into Dean’s special workroom earlier and saw the Thunderbird is gone. Bela already picked it up?” Sam hums and munches on a granola bar.

“Yes, this morning,” Garth answers, “Your brother was in a good mood over the past few days and put in some extra hours over the weekend to get it finished.”

Sam noticed his brother’s mood when they talked on the phone a few days back.

“He told me that he finally got her to stop flirting with him. That didn't dampen their professional relationship, right? She's been quite the source of income the past months,” he says.

From what Dean told him, the first week after his talk with Bela, everything seemed to work out for his older brother just the way he hoped for. She hasn't come on him again and apparently, he solved the problem by talking about his real feelings. Sam was kind of proud of his brother, who always closes up about his thoughts, fears and feelings. He doesn’t know exactly what Dean’s matter is for not taking Bela’s offer, his brother usually tends to go for everything with a heartbeat, but he suspects that Dean finally searches for something steadier than a fling.

“Oh, no, she took it really well. I actually overheard them talking and she was cool about it. Not that I would've rated her intolerant or bigoted, but she's kinda used to get what she wants,” Garth replies.

“Wait- why bigoted?” Sam chokes out because some nuts have found their way into the wrong pipe, “What exactly did Dean tell her?”

“Oh, em, that he’s not into _women_ at the moment. That he wants to figure out these new interests he has.”

Sam’s mind goes completely blank the first moment, then it’s running at full blast. If Garth is implying what he thinks he is, Sam probably will need to sit down to process this information, so he leans more into the post in his back.

“He… I mean… What?” is all that he can muster to say. So many thoughts and assumptions are running through his mind that it’s difficult to order them enough to form an actual sentence.

Garth seems to be surprised by his reaction and more coughs than speaks his next words. “That… That’s a bit awkward now. He said you knew.”

“That I know what? When did you talk about it?”

Sam struggles with which information confuses him more. The situation in itself or that Dean assumes Sam knows about it. His mind is even slow at finding the appropriate name for ‘it’ right now. Fortunately, Garth keeps going on talking, so for a moment he can just listen.

“I overheard their conversation and after he talked with Bela I just wanted to let him know that I support him and that I'm proud he had the guts to tell her the truth. It probably wasn't easy to be open about it. I asked him if you knew about his, well, not doubts, but… _new interests_ , and he said you guys never openly talked about it but that you probably knew and just never approached it to not make him feel uncomfortable.”

A few long seconds pass and turn into a long, silent minute until Sam carefully speaks again. He needs to be sure they don’t talk past each other. “So, you’re saying my brother is into men. Romantically… or sexually.” At Garth’s nod, Sam exhales. “I… I didn’t know.”

“I'm sorry, I wouldn't have said anything if I knew,” says Garth and by the way his voice sounds breathy and low, he feels awkward himself with the current situation.

“No, no, it's okay, I guess,” Sam quickly responds, “I mean, if he's been okay to talk with you about it. I just… I thought he would come to me with something like this. He must know I would be nothing but supportive.”

It’s hard to wrap his head around the seeming fact that his brother questions his sexuality. Sam would never think different or even ‘less’ of his brother, regardless of whether he considers himself gay, bi or straight or something or nothing in between. The shock Sam feels right now is more connected to the fact, that it never crossed his mind that his brother might be into men. Dean’s attitude of being the most ‘manly’ man in the world with hobbies like cars, beer, rock music and women, was mostly a remnant of their father’s parenting, but he still comes across as nothing but straight. Now that he thinks about it, Dean definitely showed to find other men attractive before. But they were mostly fictional like Dr. Sexy, or Han Solo. Still, did Dean assume Sam knows about his sexuality because he also knows about this?

Sam is absentminded long enough that he doesn’t get Garth’s last sentences, so he asks again.

“I said that I’m sure he knows. About you being supportive. It's probably just difficult for him to talk about it to his little brother. He has… quite the reputation about being a ladies-man,” Garth answers.

Garth is right. Sam tends to do the same, when he has a problem. Ever since their dad died, Dean has taken over the part of being the strong one in the family. He never thought of himself, but of what he could do to help their mom or Sam. And Sam started doing his own business because he didn’t want to add to his big brother’s distress.

“I need to let him now I’m absolutely supportive and that it doesn’t change my view on him in the slightest,” he says determined, “But I can't just go and tell him, he would probably close up even more.”

“I don't know. Would be a typical Dean, but… he seemed to be okay when talking to me,” Garth laughs under his breath.

“Yeah, but I'm still his baby brother to him. I have to be more subtle. Do you know… I mean, did he mention anyone he's seeing?” Sam asks. If Dean is in a relationship with a guy, maybe Sam could invite them to dinner at his house. Eileen would love to see Dean with someone.

Garth shakes his head “No, he didn't mention anyone. But I don't think he is. To me it seemed more like he just came to term with the concept in general.”

Sam takes a deep breath and brushes a few strands out of his face. It’s going to be complicated.

“Okay,” he exhales, “wow, this situation blows my mind right now.”

“Sorry, I really didn't mean to make your relationship awkward,” Garth says quiet.

“No, Garth, you didn't. I'm glad you told me, even if rather involuntarily. I had the feeling there was something bothering him, but I would never have guessed he'd be questioning his sexuality.”

“We're in Kansas. It's quite the process to come out here, I guess. I don’t see many gay couples walking around openly affectionate. And as far as I know, Dean doesn't have anyone gay or bi among his friends, so he probably deals with it on his own.”

Sam sighs. “I just wish he’d said anything to me. I- “

_Wait._ he thinks. Garth is right. As far as Sam knows, Dean has no one around him who experienced the same. Maybe his brother needs someone to talk to, who knows what it’s like to come out, and maybe Sam could help with that. _Castiel_ is the first name coming to his mind.

Castiel is the only openly gay man he knows, and he likes to call him a friend. Sam started his internship in Castiel's department where the only six years older lawyer offered advice and help from the beginning and quickly became his first contact person. After he switched from internship to regular position and transferred to another department, their paths still crossed a lot, in the break room and on cases. They met up once or twice for a beer after work and though their co-workers call Castiel odd or strange, Sam finds they have a lot to talk about.

Maybe he could arrange a meeting between his brother and Castiel. Sam knows, that the other lawyer had some troubles coming out to his family as a teenager, and maybe he would be willing to share his experiences with Dean.

Only when Garth clears his throat, Sam realizes he has been starring into the air for a minute or two, musing about his plan.

“I have an idea. Dean will either kill me, or… well, not kill me,” he says.

Garth's eyes widen and the shorter man probably has the strangest ideas in his mind about what Sam plans to do. Honestly, it’s either a brilliant or horrific plan. It feels a bit off to share his new learned information about his brother with Castiel, but Sam really wants to do something for his brother, who sacrificed so much for him before.

“Anyway,” Sam goes on, “Do you need much longer on the car?”

“No, another ten minutes maybe,” Garth answers.

“Okay, I’ll get you a coffee from the break room. Milk or sugar?”

“Both. Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! If you like it, leave kudos or comments. I'd love to hear what you think about it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, I couldn't stop working on this, so I already finished chapter two. I hope you enjoy it :)  
> It's still not Beta read, but I hope I caught nearly every mistake while re-reading it. The rest is due to me not being a native English speaker.

On Tuesday evening, Dean pushes the door to his apartment building open with yet another bag of fast food in his hands. Burgers this time, not the best choice, but enough to get him sated. His own homemade buns and patties are head and shoulders better, only outclassed by the bacon-cheeseburger at Ellen’s bar, but Dean usually finds it hard to motivate himself to stand in the kitchen for hours if the only person who would delight in the result is himself. It’s pathetic at times, like he is in an early midlife crisis.

He enters his apartment and sets the food on the kitchen counter to go through his mail. Beside bills, junk mail and his monthly issue of the Muscle Car Review Magazine, there is also a postcard from his mother. Dean has never been to England, but he doesn’t have to be British to recognize the Westminster Palace and Big Ben on the front side.

His mom Mary is on a trip across Europe with her boyfriend Mick. He is British but works in the US in customer acquisition for an international company with head office in London. They met by chance over a year ago at Kansas City International Airport when Sam and Dean had bought her a trip to San Francisco for her birthday and she sat next to the dark-haired Brit on the flight.

At first, Dean was more than wary towards him, although Sam seemed to get along with him quite well. The older Winchester brother had problems with the other man’s high-flown attitude and that he paraded his first-class education and wealthy background all the time. Dean feared that Mick would try to change Mary’s casual and grounded nature to use the beautiful woman as reserved arm candy for his business dinners. He told his mother about his doubts every now and then, just to remember her to be careful, and got a lecture in return more than once. Objectively, Dean knows his mom can take care of herself, but after all the shit that happened after his father’s death, and probably even before John drunkenly steered his car against a tree, Dean feels responsible for the wellbeing of his family.

He must admit that in the year since Mary had introduced Mick to Sam and Dean, the Brit has showed nothing but respect, care and attention for their mother, even love. For the first time in over ten years, Mary smiles more often than not and that alone lets Dean be grateful she met him.

When he learned that he would have to go to London for a week, Mick used the opportunity to take his vacation right afterwards and invited Mary on a trip through Europe. They will be gone for another few weeks and by his mother’s note on the back side of the post card, Dean guesses, they will be very busy all the time. First England, then with a ferry over to France and Spain, followed by Italy and back up north over Switzerland to Germany. Mick booked a transatlantic cruise from Hamburg to New York to get back to the States. It makes Dean smile, because his mother probably has the time of her life right now, and he pins the card to his fridge.

Sitting on his sofa, Dean takes the first bite from his burger when his phone rings. He wipes his hands on his jeans and reaches for his back pocket. From Asia warbling in his ears, he already knows to expect his little brother on the other side of the line.

“Hey, Sam. What’s up?” he mumbles over another bite of meat.

“Nothing special. Enjoy your meal!” comes the response.

Dean swallows. “Thanks.”

“You got a card from mom, too?”

“Yeah. Sounds like she’s having fun over there,” Dean answers.

“I’d loved to have seen her face when Mick told her about the cruise. That’s something she always wanted to do. Well, aside from a trip to Europe,” Sam laughs.

He’s right. Their mom always wished to travel more, but with their dad it hasn’t been possible and later less than ever. Dean clearly remembers her face, when he and Sam gave her the ticket to San Francisco. She turned into a child again. The memory makes Dean smile.

“I bet she doesn’t stop making wide eyes for weeks,” he says.

“And she probably already wonders if her suitcase is big enough for all the souvenirs,” Sam adds.

They both laugh and Dean asks himself if maybe it’s time for him to take a vacation, too. It might help him clear his head a bit. And after years of hard work and no other trips than to go fishing or camping with his son, he definitely deserves a break.

“Hey, I thought about going to the Roadhouse this weekend. Want to come?” Sam’s voice jolts Dean from his thoughts.

“Eh, sure. When exactly? I have Ben on Friday and Saturday, but he’s going to some friend’s birthday party, so I’ll bring him over late afternoon and would be free for the evening,” he answers and washes down the rest of his meal with an ice-cold bottle of beer.

“Saturday evening is good. Maybe seven?”

Dean nods to agree, but remembers his brother is on the phone, so he repeats his affirmation with a short “Sounds good to me.”

“I asked a friend, too, if that’s okay. A colleague from work,” Sam continues.

“No problem for me. But won’t you two want to talk about your lawyer stuff? I’m not sure I would contribute anything smart to the conversation,” Dean says.

He’s never met anyone from Sam’s work, but he knows that when his little brother starts talking about his job, or politics, or civil rights, it’s a waste of effort to try to participate in the discussion. Not that Sam is in any way stubborn or intolerant of other people’s opinions, but he is very passionate about his own and as a walking encyclopedia he can usually counter everything Dean says. With two of that kind, the evening might call for lots of booze for the mechanic.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Dean. You always make yourself smaller than you are,” Sam objects to which Dean huffs, but lets his brother continue. “And also, we don’t talk about work all the time. We can chat just like everybody else.”

“Okay, okay. So, who is this guy?” Dean asks.

“His name is Castiel. He was kind of my mentor when I was an intern, although he’s only two years older than you.”

Dean remembers the name. Not too hard, as it’s more than unusual. Sam mentioned him a few times before, always speaking highly of the other lawyer, but Dean didn’t know they were friends outside the office.

“Okay. See you on Saturday, then,” he says when he hears Sam’s kitchen timer over the phone, “say hello to Eileen for me.”

“Done. Bye, Dean,” responds Sam before he hangs up.

 

The rest of the week goes by without any special events. Dean is happy when he picks up Ben on Friday at Lisa’s and stays for a coffee and a long chat. He is more than glad for how easy and uncomplicated their relationship is, considering they were both only in their early twenties when Ben was born and they never really were more than a one-time thing. Lisa and he never needed the court for visitation rights, so Dean can see his son whenever he wants and was able to build up a good relationship to Ben from day one on. His parents being friends is definitely important for Ben, although the seven-year-old tries on occasion to play one of them off against the other with ‘but mom said I could’ or ‘dad allows me to’. It never works.

On Saturday, Dean takes a shower after he dropped his son off at a friend’s house. He uses the free time he has until meeting up with Sam and his colleague to stand under the hot spray for a few minutes longer than he does over the week. Both the warmth and the pressure of his new shower head help to relieve the tension in his neck and back. He even takes the time to shave thoroughly because he has nothing else to do and because he must admit that his stubble slowly transformed into a beard over the past few days.

Topped off with a dash of cologne, Dean takes his keys from the table next to his front door and locks up behind himself. He doesn’t drive directly to the Roadhouse, but to his brother’s house. Dean usually stays with Sam and Eileen overnight, when the two men are out at their favorite bar, so he can have a drink or more, and it’s a much less distance to get into a bed at night. He turns into the driveway at quarter to seven and sees his little brother already waiting to be picked up.

“Hey,” the younger but taller man greets, which Dean returns.

“Castiel waits for us at the bar.”

Dean steers them on the road again and it takes them less than ten minutes to reach their destination. The gravel crunches under the Impala's tires as Dean drives his car around the main building. Ellen allows him to park his baby in a shed near the back exit, so that the black beauty is protected overnight. Sam and Dean enter the Roadhouse and after a quick glance, the younger Winchester waves into the direction of a booth in the back of the bar. Dean follows his brother to a man who stands up from his seat to greet them.

At the sight of the man in front of him, Dean has to chuckle. Castiel wears a suit, although it’s Saturday and they meet up for a casual men’s night out at a bar. His dark hair is tousled and looks like it hasn’t seen a comb in a week. It’s not what Dean has expected the lawyer to appear like.

“Hey, Castiel. Great you made it,” Sam says.

“Hello, Sam,” Castiel answers with probably the lowest voice Dean has ever heard, before he turns his attention to the older Winchester brother, “Hello, I’m Castiel Novak.”

“I’m Dean. Winchester,” Dean introduces himself and takes the offered hand to shake it. It’s a firm handshake, he notices. “I’m Sam’s older brother. The handsome in the family.” Sam’s eyeroll is nearly audible.

“Nice to meet you. Sam talks a lot about you,” Castiel says.

They settle into the booth with Castiel on one side and the brothers on the other side of the table. With a side glance to Sam, who pretends to be very interested in the menu although he knows it by heart, Dean smirks. “Does he? I hope about what an awesome brother I am.”

“Actually, yes.”

“Alright, I’m starving. You guys ready to order?” Sam calls out.

Dean and Castiel share a smile at how the younger man tries to change the topic but Dean lets it drop for now as he really is hungry, too.

“Sure,” he says.

“I guess you eat here frequently, so what would you recommend?” Castiel asks.

“Well, that depends,” Dean starts, “If you’re a rabbit like Sam, I really am the wrong person to ask. He knows about all the salad and veggie. If you’re up for the real stuff, I can totally recommend the bacon cheeseburger, it’s legendary. And I don’t exaggerate.”

“I really like burgers, so I think I’m going to give it a try,” comes the response.

Dean waves over the waitress and they order their meals. While eating and drinking, the three men start talking about everything and nothing. Dean has a great time and can easily relate why his brother likes Castiel. It’s fascinating to see how they interact, and that the older lawyer is more than capable to keep up with Sam when he starts a discussion. Dean had doubts if he would actually be part of a conversation between these two geniuses, but he really didn’t need to worry. Castiel even asks about his work and listens seemingly interested when he starts to rave about the Thunderbird he just finished working on. They get along well, and so it’s no wonder that hours later, they all still sit in the same booth and not one called it a night. It gets funnier when Dean orders a round of tequila shots. The older Winchester is quite amazed how Castiel takes one glass after another like a pro. The dark-haired man loosens up more and more and starts talking about things he experienced on his cases at work.

“No way,” Dean laughs loudly. He might even start to slur a bit, “How comes you never have funny cases like that?” He looks at his brother.

“I _have_ funny cases, much funnier than this,” Sam defends sulkily.

“Oh come on man, it’s hilarious. I mean, I wish I would have been that creative when I still did pranks to you.”

“Creative, definitely, but not everyone seemed to be amused. We were lucky the company agreed to accept a compromise,” Castiel explains.

“You can’t tell me you kept a straight face going through these files,” Dean says while pointing his finger at Castiel.

The lawyer bites his lip, but eventually starts to laugh. “Yes, you’re right.”

After the three come down from laughing and chuckling, Dean stretches his arms over his head and speaks again. “Should I get another round?”

“Not for me,” Sam says. He has his head rested on the wall, to Dean a clear sign that his brother is slowly drifting off to sleep.

“And you Cas?” Dean asks when the man doesn’t answer immediately.

“Cas?” Castiel echoes with his head tilted to the side.

Dean has seen him doing this thing with the head a few times over the evening when the dark-haired man was engrossed in thought or didn’t get a joke. It lets him look like an innocent child. “Oh, sorry,” Dean says and rubs the back of his neck, “I tend to shorten people’s names. And Castiel is kind of a mouthful. But I stop it, if you don’t like it.”

“No, it’s okay,” Cas stops for a moment as if a thought grazes his mind, “It’s years since anybody called me that. But I like it.” The smile Dean gets is genuine.

“Okay, so… do you want another shot?” Dean asks and holds up an empty shot glass.

“No, I pass.” Cas answers, “And If you don’t mind, I would like to get going. I feel a little bit tired.”

Hearing it from Cas, Dean has to stifle a yawn too, so the three men pay for their food and drinks and soon find themselves outside the Roadhouse waiting for their taxis.

Cas leaves the first one to the brothers, and Sam, who nearly falls asleep on his feet, says his goodbye before he hops into the backseat. Dean follows him with a laugh, but winds the window down to wave goodbye to Cas. “We should definitely do that again,” he takes a quick glance at his brother softly snoring beside him and chuckles before he turns his attention back to the man standing outside the car door. “Goodnight Cas.”

“Goodnight, Dean. I would like to meet up again.”

The drive back to Sam’s house is short and uneventful, but getting his giant brother into the house in a sleepy and slightly drunken state stretches Dean to his limits. All lights are out when he opens the door, so Eileen apparently went to bed already. Dean gently shakes his brother and nudges him up the stairs, then makes his way to the guest room / study. He has to bite his lip when his little toe hits the dresser in the hall just outside the room. It stands there since his brother and Eileen moved in, but Dean still hits it every time. He crashes onto the bed and only then realizes how tired he actually is. Without great elegance he wiggles out of his clothes, still lying on his stomach, and is glad he had the presence of mind to toe off his shoes downstairs. Because of the late hour and the amount of alcohol he drank that night, he easily falls into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning, Dean awakes not to a headache – which is surprising – but to the sun shining into the room. He apparently forgot to lower the blinds the night before. Stretching his stiff muscles, he stands up to collect his clothes all shattered around the bed, quickly washes his face and brushes his teeth to get rid of most of the alcohol stink, and makes his way downstairs to the kitchen. Sam and his girlfriend are already puttering around to make breakfast.

“Good morning,” Dean yawns.

“Good morning,” Sam and Eileen answer.

“There’s some aspirin for you on the counter,” she says.

Dean looks over to the small bottle, but decides he doesn’t need one. “Thank you, I’m good,” he says instead and walks over to the small woman to kiss her on the cheek. Because he knows that Eileen can read his lips, he doesn’t even try to poorly sign when he speaks again. “Did you already eat breakfast?”

“No,” Sam answers, “but it’s ready, we were just waiting for you.”

“Great, I could eat a horse,” Dean says and his growling stomach confirms the statement.

“Dude, you ate a whole burger and probably a ton of curly fries last night,” his brother protests and signs simultaneously.

“Right, that was _yesterday_ , and today I’m hungry again. I’m like a warrior, Sam, I need my food. Especially my meat,” Dean says as he sees the bacon plate Eileen puts on the table. “Did I tell you that you’re too good for my brother?” he tells her with a smile.

“You did, but you can repeat yourself whenever you want,” she smirks but wraps her arms around a pouting Sam.

They sit down and start to eat. Dean loves this moments of domestic life, to see how his brother acts around Eileen. They are so sweet together, so natural and familiar in their interactions, it makes Dean scream internally. Because this is exactly what he wants. Lazy Sunday mornings with sleeping in and making breakfast together. He wants to play footsie under the table and maybe snuggle on the couch for a bit afterwards or even make the laundry. Life is so much more bearable when there is someone to share it with.

He doesn’t know if he sighs out loud or if it’s just in his head, but Eileen looks at him and asks “So, you three had a great time yesterday?”

“Yeah,” Dean says, munching on the rest of his bacon, “Cas is a cool guy, definitely not what I expected. I haven’t laughed that much in months. But really, what is it with the hair in your law firm?” he waves at his brother with his fork, “Yours is getting longer by the minute and Cas has a chronic bed head. Or does he comb it for work?”

“He does, but it doesn’t make any difference,” Sam laughs.

“Anyway, you should bring him again, when we go out for a drink.”

“I can?” Sam asks, not quite surprised but rather for confirmation.

“Sure,” Dean answers, “We already said yesterday we would like to do that again soon.”

It’s nice to go out more, not in search for a warm body for the night, but just to have a chat. And Cas is really a nice guy, maybe they can become friends, Dean thinks to himself.

“When did you agree on that?” Sam adds.

“While you were snoring next to me in the taxi,” Dean chuckles.

“I don’t snore!” Sam denies and looks over to his girlfriend for support.

“How would I know?” She points out dryly and the way she shrugs while saying it makes both brothers crack up with laughter and Eileen joins in.

 _Yeah_ , Dean thinks after they calm down, _this is family._

 

The following week is as unspectacular as the one before, Dean works, eats and sleeps. Sam calls him to ask if he’s available on Friday and because Dean has to be nowhere else, he gladly agrees to meet up with his brother and Cas again.

His employees send him home early on Friday and so he lazily lies on the sofa in the afternoon. Somehow, he falls asleep with the TV turned on and when he wakes up again, he needs to hurry to not be late. Luckily, he needs to drive back home later that day – he’s going to pick up Ben early the next morning – and doesn’t have to make the detour to Sam’s house, but can drive directly to the Roadhouse. Because of the traffic, he’s still a few minutes late when he lets himself fall into the seat next to his brother and across from Cas, just like the week before.

„Sorry, guys. There was a crash on K-10,“ he says and orders a soda from the waitress passing by.

„No problem, I just came in too,“ Sam assures.

Cas nods in agreement „I’ve taken the liberty to already order for you. Sam said you always eat the same here and I didn’t have your phone number to call and ask. I hope that’s okay.”

Judging by the look on Cas’ face, the lawyer searches for the confirmation that he did nothing wrong. It’s almost adorable to see a thirty-something, highly successful man to be in doubts about something this trivial. But maybe Sam is right, and he doesn’t have many friends and is not used to this. _What a shame_ , Dean thinks.

„Oh, thanks. That’s more than okay, because I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast and my stomach reminded me of it the whole drive here. And Sam’s right, I always eat the bacon cheeseburger. I’m a creature of habit,” he shrugs, „and we can easily change that with the number.” He holds out his hand, palm up, „Give me your phone.”

Cas grabs into his pocket and hands it over to Dean, who quickly adds himself to the contact list.

„Give me a call, so I have yours too,” he says and Cas complies. „There we go,” Dean chuckles as he adds Cas to his own contact list and attaches a little emoji after the other man’s name.

Sam looks at his brother’s phone and groans. „Really, Dean?”

Dean just smile at the taller man and Cas looks confused from one brother to the other. „What is it?”

„Dean isn’t really up to date with technology and he only recently discovered emojis. Biggest mistake of my life to show him!” Sam answers with a sigh, „he added a smiley to your name in the contacts.”

„Oh. Can I see it?” Castiel asks.

„Sure,” Dean says and puts his phone on the table.

Cas looks even more confused and tilts his head to the side in this very Cas-ish way. Dean wishes, there would have been an emoji for this.

„Why did you choose a face with a halo?”

„Because of your name,” Dean points out like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

„How do you…?” Cas starts but doesn’t finish the sentence. Dean still knows what he means.

„I may have looked you up,” Dean admits.

“Why?” Cas asks.

“Because I was bored. Under your profile from your office’s website and some college alumni links, there was a link to the origin of the name Castiel in the search engine. I was curious. It’s an angel’s name, right?”

“It is,” Castiel answers.

“See, therefore the halo,” Dean grins.

Castiel smiles softly at him and Dean is glad. He likes making the people around him happy and somehow he knows that Cas is going to be one of them.

Their food arrives and they settle into the same comfortable atmosphere as the week before, although their conversation stays a bit more mature due to the lack of booze this time. Dean tells them about a Back-to-the-Future movie marathon in the theatre that is planned for September and asks if they would like to go watch it.

“I have never seen the trilogy, to be honest,” Cas admits.

“What? Are you serious?” Dean can’t imagine that anyone hasn’t seen it.

“Yes. Unfortunately, although I have the DVD’s at home. They were a gift, but…,” Cas stops for a moment like he remembers something, “I somehow never found the time to watch it.”

“Well then,” Dean exclaims, “I don’t ask you to come with us, I order you.”

“Dean, you don’t even know if he is free on that day,” Sam interjects.

Dean huffs. “Are you free on…,” he has to look up the date on his phone, “Saturday, the 23rd?”

“I usually don’t have much to do on Saturdays, so I can certainly make it work.”

They fall into a discussion about other movies and Dean is relieved, that Cas at least knows some of them. Just when Dean starts musing whether he should take a slice of the mouthwatering apple pie he saw a waitress carrying over to another table, Sam’s phone rings with a facetime call coming in.

“Oh, it’s Eileen. I’ll be right back,” he says and stands up.

“He’s such a lovey-dovey,” Dean sighs when he sits down after letting his brother out of the seat.

“Whenever he talks about Eileen, he indeed gets a dreamy face,” Cas agrees.

“You met her?”

“No, but I’d like to. She must be a very interesting woman.”

“She is!” Dean nods with enthusiasm. Eileen really is a bad ass woman. “She’s so strong and I have to admit I was quite impressed at first how well she handles her life with being deaf. She has no problem with asking for help, when she really needs it, but that’s hardly ever the case. My brother is lucky to have her. And for me, she’s already family.”

“You care a lot about family, right?” Cas asks. His voice and expression is unreadable for Dean.

Before Dean can answer, his brother comes back to the table. “Sorry, guys, I have to get going. Eileen has been on a teacher’s conference at school but forgot her keys and now she’s standing outside the house.”

“Well, let’s pay and call it a night then.” Dean already grabs into his back pocket to get his wallet, but Sam pats him on the shoulder.

“No, you should stay. The evening has just begun and I know you want that pie, Dean. Stay and grab a bite, please,” Sam says and throws a few bills on the table for his food.

Dean eyes his brother skeptically and tries to find out why he is so enthusiastic about him eating pie. But as another slice passes the table just in that moment, he simply decides that he doesn’t care.

“Okay, I’ll stay. What about you, Cas? You think you won’t be too bored with me alone?”

Cas chuckles. “No, Dean. Certainly not. And if there are two slices, I think, I might try the pie too.”

Dean grins and snaps his fingers to get the waitress’ attention.

“I guess that decides it. Go and save your girlfriend, Sam. We’ll be fine,” he says, “And say hello to Eileen from me.”

His brother doesn’t wait any longer and quickly exits the bar, leaving Cas and Dean alone. They order their pie and settle into silence until it arrives. It’s just as heavenly, as Dean imagined and judging by Cas’ low moans, the other man enjoys it too.

But somehow the atmosphere gets a bit awkward and Dean doesn’t know why. They don’t talk for a few minutes and the Winchester ponders if they don’t have much to talk about without Sam being there. After another few minutes of silence, with munching on pie crust and sipping from glasses are the only things happening at their table, Cas finally speaks.

“So, em…There actually is a reason why Sam invited me too last week to your dinner,” he starts and Dean tenses up because the other man seems to fight for the right words. “He thought that maybe you could need my help.”

Dean is confused. Why would his brother think he needs help? What kind of help? With what exactly? _Maybe as a lawyer_ , he thinks. Maybe someone at work has problems with him and Cas is specialized in Labor Law. No, that can’t be it; if his employees had a problem, they would come to him and tell him, not go to a lawyer. But what else could it be?

“I have no clue what you mean,” he says honestly but carefully.

Cas exhales audibly and closes his eyes for a moment before he fixates Dean’s.

“I’m gay.”

“Oh, okay. But what does that have to do with me needing help for whatever Sam thinks I need help with?” Dean is puzzled. Is there something he’s missing here? The last minute of Cas talking doesn’t make any sense to him at all.

“He thinks that maybe you would need my advice. Or maybe I am more of a person to answer any… questions you have, than him.” Cas is clearly uncomfortable with whatever he is trying to tell him.

Dean doesn’t answer, because he really would like to know what exactly his brother planned for this, so Cas goes on after he clears his throat.

“I know, maybe it wasn’t right for him to tell me and I didn’t want to play along first, but he really cares about you and I had problems with my family when I came out to them, so I thought maybe I could help someone else with my experience.”

Alarm bells start ringing in Dean’s head. He has the suspicion that something really is going wrong here.

“What exactly did Sam tell you?”

“Well, he came to me in the office and said that he needed my help. He said he recently found out about you… em,” Cas stops for a moment, obviously searching for the right wording, “that you are interested into trying a sexual relationship with men, but that you wouldn’t want to talk to him about it, so he thought I might be a better contact, if you have any questions.”

Dean’s mind goes completely blank. “What?” he nearly yells.

 _This has to be a joke_ , he thinks and because it’s the only way his brain seems to find appropriate to react to this, he starts laughing.

Cas looks at him quizzically. “What is so funny about this?”

“Yeah, I get it, but you can stop now. You can tell Sam, this is a very good prank.”

“Dean, I don’t know why you thinks this is a prank,” Cas says, “your brother is concerned. He thinks that you may fear he would look at you differently, when you open up about your sexuality, but he really wants you to know that he loves you, no matter what.”

Slowly, Dean comes to the realization that maybe this isn’t a joke at all. He presses his back into the seat. He feels very uncomfortable in this booth suddenly.

“So, you say my brother thinks I’m gay and what? He wants to set us up?” He is snippy, although he knows there is no reason for it.

“No, no,” Cas assures, “I thought that first too, but he really just wants you to have someone to talk to. And he didn’t say you were gay. From what I know, you have quite the history with women, so I would say you might be bi?”

Dean doesn’t know what to say anymore. Cas seems to be earnest. Why on earth would Sam think he is into men? _This is all crazy_ , he thinks. He starts to breathe heavily and balls his fists on the table. He’s angry. At Sam for thinking he is into men – whyever – and for sharing this thought with Cas and making him join in this touchy-feely plan. And he’s angry at Cas for pretending to want to be his friend.

“This is all bullshit,” he shouts, “I’m not gay, or bi, or whatever crap else. I’m into women, and women alone! I really would like to know how my brother comes to think of this.”

Cas’ eyes widen and then he looks down at his hands in his lap, staying quite for over a minute.

“I’m sorry Dean, if I made you uncomfortable. I understand, I’m still a stranger, so you don’t have to talk to me, but I will still answer any questions, if…” he doesn’t get to finish his sentence because Dean interjects.

“Shove it, Cas. I’m not lying here, I’m not some closeted guy you can set free. I really am not into men.” Dean nearly fumes now, “Oh, and good acting by the way. I actually thought you would just like me and maybe could become a friend.”

Castiel’s expression changes and the otherwise so reserved lawyer fights with keeping control.

“I like you, Dean. I _was_ trying to become your friend!”

“Yeah, sure.”

“You know what, I wanted to help you, I thought I could give advice with my experience. It was a misunderstanding, but it wasn’t my fault and I really don’t have to make any apologies or let you insult me. Goodnight, Dean.” Cas stands up from his seat, throws a few bills on the table and leaves.

Dean stays only for another minute, until he is sure that Cas is gone, and pays for their food and drinks. Once he gets back to his baby and out on the road again, he slowly comes down from his rage. He tries to call Sam half a dozen times on the drive back to Lawrence but his brother doesn’t answer the phone. Of course not. By the time he enters his apartment and falls onto his couch, keys dropping on the floor to his side, he kind of admits that he reacted poorly. If he’s honest, Cas was dragged into this just like him and Dean probably insulted the man for being nice. He doesn’t entirely remember everything he said to Cas that evening – his brain was in overdrive – but it certainly wasn’t all nice. He groans.

 _Still_ , he thinks, _why on earth does Sam think I’m into men?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading so far. Hope to "see" you again soon (maybe in the comments?) :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, another early update. My mind is just rolling with ideas for this fic right now. I hope you don't mind, but I think it's going to be a looong fic.  
> Well, first things first: I really hope you enjoy reading this chapter <3

Waking up to his alarm on the next morning, Dean at first thinks the evening before has just been a dream, but quickly realizes it really happened. He muses about ringing Sam out of bed to get some answers from his little brother, but decides against it. This discussion might take a while and Dean promised Lisa to take Ben for a few hours. So instead of clearing up this incredible misunderstanding, the origin of which Dean can’t even begin to wrap his head around no matter how hard he tried last night, he picks up his son and drives them over to Bobby’s. Ben helps Ellen make pancakes for breakfast, then goes out into the garden to play. Dean sits on the porch, chatting with Bobby, but more than once has to ask the older man to repeat what he just said. He can’t get the highly uncomfortable talk with Cas out of his head. And the probably just as awkward conversation he’s going to have with his brother as soon as possible.

“What’s eating ya?” Bobby asks, slightly swinging in the rocking chair next to Dean.

“Nothing.”

“Yeah, sure. You can lie to yourself as much as you want, but you don’t shit me, son.”

Dean sighs. He must have known that Bobby would sense something. But before his talk with Sam, Dean really doesn’t like to tell someone else. And afterwards probably neither. _But what if Bobby already knows?_ Maybe Sam had not only let Cas in on his ludicrous assumption but also other people? He has the creeping horrors who else might be wandering around thinking he is gay. With Sam, he can simply sort this stuff out, let him swear to never speak a word about it again, but it might not be as easy with other people.

“Ehm, did you and Sam… talk lately?” Dean tries carefully.

Bobby looks at him with raised eyebrows. “Yes. Just like _we_ do from time to time.”

“Yeah, I mean, did he mention something about… me?” His palms get sweaty. If Bobby really got a talk from Sam, Dean is not ready for this conversation.

But the older man just eyes him quizzically. “No… Is there anything to know?”

“Oh, no, no…. it’s just… nothing.” Thankfully, Bobby isn’t much of a talking-about-problems-guy, so they settle into silent after a short confirming huff from the older man.

In the early afternoon, Dean calls for Ben to get ready to take off. The seven-year-old is already on his way to the Impala, when Bobby stops the dark blond man on the doorstep.

“Hey, you fix whatever is going on between you and your brother, okay?”

Dean doesn’t know what to say but “Yes.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m getting far too old to grapple with your spats,” the old bearded man grumbles.

Dean steps down from the front porch on the gravel path, quietly mumbling his goodbye, when Bobby adds from behind “Dean, if there is anything bothering you, you know you can always come to me, right?”

“I know. Bye Bobby.”

The moment Dean drops Ben off at Lisa’s – declining the offer to come in for a coffee –  and takes the seat behind the steering wheel again, he calls Sam. This time, his brother answers his phone, although it takes about a minute of ringing before the younger man’s voice appears on the speaker.

“Hello, Dean?” Sam’s voice sounds almost cautious and Dean assumes his brother already knows why he is calling.

“Hey, Sam,” he says with contrived mirth. When the other man doesn’t say anything else, Dean goes on. “Anything you’d like to tell me?”

“Ehm… Okay, listen Dean, I know what you think –” Sam starts but gets interrupted.

“Oh, do you? Because I kinda have the feeling you don’t know me as much as you think you do.”

“Dean, please, I know how this all sounds like, but let me explain -” Again, Sam doesn’t get to finish his sentence.

“You know what?” Dean says, starting his Baby’s engine, “Before you start babbling about whatever explanation you have prepared, I’d like to not do that on the phone. If at any time I’ll feel the need to yell at you, I want to do it in person. You at home?”

“Yes,” comes Sam’s reserved answer.

“Good. Is Eileen there?”

“No, she’s out with some friends.”

“Even better. I’m at your place in less than ten minutes. You can make coffee in the meanwhile.” Dean knows he’s in rage again, but he doesn’t care right now.

“You sure you don’t rather want a tea?” Sam asks

“Sam, I swear…”

“Yeah, okay. Got it. See you in a bit.” With that, Sam ends the call and Dean presses on the gas pedal.

 

In a new record time, Dean arrives at Sam’s house and parks his car in the driveway. He walks straight over the lawn and onto the front porch where he keeps ringing the doorbell until his brother’s mane comes into view through the glass in the door.

“Hey,” Sam greets.

“Hey,” Dean answers, more gruffly than necessary and than intended. But it has the effect that Sam slightly drops his head when he enters the hall, passing his little brother, and walks into the kitchen, where he already smells the steaming pot of coffee.

He sits down silently when Sam pours them a cup and joins Dean at the table. The older brother immediately takes a sip from his cup to have another few moments to sort his thoughts, although the gulp burns in his throat. He grins and bears the momentary pain.

But eventually, there is no talking around it – or keeping quiet around it – anymore. “I guess you heard what happened after you were gone yesterday?” Dean asks.

“Yes,” Sam answers with a low voice, “Cas called me after he left the Roadhouse.”

“Oh, so you just didn’t answer _my_ calls,” Dean huffs. He gets worked up again quickly. Maybe it’s the only way he can handle a talk with his little brother, to let the angry big brother hang out.

“From what Cas told me… I thought it would be better for you to get a night’s sleep to calm down some,” Sam says. “But I see it didn’t help much,” he adds.

“So, you don’t think I have the right to be pissed?” Dean takes another sip from his cup, again forgetting how steaming hot the coffee is. The pain somehow takes the edge off him, though.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying,” Sam says, pinching the bridge of his nose. Dean thinks it’s a gesture _he_ should be making, not him. “I understand that you’re irritated, that you’re kinda pissed. Although I don’t get why you are _this_ furious.” The last sentence is said under his breath, but Dean catches it anyway.

“I’m furious, Sam, because my little brother runs around telling people I’m gay, which I’m not!”

Sam straightens himself on his chair in a defensive way. “I don’t ‘run’ around telling people anything. And I never said you were gay, I just –”

“I don’t give a hoot one way or another. All I care about is what the hell got you to think I’m gay?” When he sees the other man trying to speak up, Dean corrects himself with his hands raised, “Or _into men_ , if you want to put it that way.”

“Okay, I’ll explain, but you have to promise that you won’t get mad at the person who told me. He didn’t mean to in the first place.”

“What? Someone is out there telling my brother crap about me?” Dean says, his voice pitching higher than usual.

“It has to be a misunderstanding, really. I thought about it a lot last night and maybe it’s a bit as if we were playing telephone,” Sam tries to calm him.

“Okay, okay. Please just explain already, ‘cause I’m a bit on the edge since yesterday.” He really just wants to finally know what’s going on, what he must’ve missed around him.

Sam takes a deep breath and a sip from the now cooled down coffee. “So, I was in your shop last week on Monday to get the blinker on my car fixed. I think you were picking up Ben from school.”

Dean’s heartbeat goes through the roof for a moment. “It’s someone at work?”

“Dean, let me finish before you get into a fuss.”

Sam is right. He wanted to know what happened, so he has to let his brother finish the story.

“Well, you weren’t there,” Sam continues, “so Garth looked at it.  We chatted about this and that and somehow, we ended up talking about Bela. I mean, you told me you two had a talk and that everything turned out to be fine, but I just wanted to be sure. Wouldn’t have been the first time that you hide something to not make me worry.” Dean snorts at that, so Sam adds “You know it’s true, Dean. Anyway, I wanted to know if maybe she wasn’t so cool about it and gave you a hard time. But Garth assured me that she took it well and that he wouldn’t have thought she would react any differently because she’s not bigoted or intolerant.”

Dean’s eyes widen. “I know,” Sam amends quickly at his expression, “I was confused too, so I pushed further and… Garth said that he overheard your conversation and that you said to her… ehm, well, that you are not into _women_ right now, that you would like to sort through some new… interests.”

Dean’s mouth hangs open as he tries to wrap his head around what he just learned. He struggles remembering every word he said to Bela – it was almost three weeks ago, after all – but he is one hundred percent sure he didn’t say anything like this, something implying he might be…

“No,” he shouts, “That’s not at all what I said.”

“I get that now,” Sam says, “but it was all the information I had. And also, Garth told me he talked to you right afterwards and you were cool about it, actually said I would probably know about it anyway.”

“That’s –” Dean starts to speak but stops himself to truly think back to that day. He had a talk with Bela, and Garth overheard it. And then he had a really awkward conversation with Garth, including big-league hugs. “Oh, I think I know what happened. Because of whatever Garth heard me saying to Bela he thought I was… _outing_ myself to her. He approached me and talked about how proud he is, and that he would support me,” he has to laugh at how everything falls into place in hindsight, “And asked if you knew about it. But I thought he was talking about something completely different. About what I really was trying to tell Bela.”

“And that was?” Sam asks.

Dean blushes. He’s not in the mood for this topic and the last time he tried to tell someone, well, it apparently didn’t end that well. Still, if he wants to avoid any further misunderstandings, he should probably explain it to Sam in the plainest way possible. It’s the most rational thought Dean had all day.

“Okay, I was trying to say that I don’t want to go out with her because I’m tired of having meaningless affairs.” As he speaks, he sees Sam’s expression soften and that freaks Dean out a bit. “I mean, you have Eileen and it seems pretty solid what you have here. And I guess… well, I want that too. I’m getting to old for random hookups in bars. I haven’t dated in… well, a _long_ time. Because I really don’t know how to approach that. I’m no real marriage material, I know that, but I have to do something… and until I know what _something_ is, I avoid quick flings like what Bela had in mind.”

He feels like he just had an open day in the deepest corners of his mind. It feels weird to pronounce it, to kind of _admit_ it out in the open. Yes, it is Sam, but still. Dean doesn’t even know if it feels uncomfortable… maybe just unfamiliar.

“Dean,” Sam says with a sigh that indicates that his brother is in for more touchy-feely talk. “You’re a great guy, I really don’t know why you think you’re no ‘marriage material’. You own a successful business, you’re an awesome dad, and everyone around you can be sure to be nothing but loved and cared for. A lot of people would be happy to have you.”

“Okay, okay, enough of that,” Dean quickly interjects. It feels nice to hear from Sam, but it’s too much and also, Dean doesn’t think it’s true. He wants it to be true and Sam apparently thinks so, but it isn’t. “And that’s not the topic here. It’s about people around me thinking I have the hots for dicks!”

“I guess you didn’t tell Bela what you just told me in that exact clear and plain way, am I right?” Sam asks.

Dean looks at his hands lying on the table. He doesn’t remember for sure, but it doesn’t sound like him to explain things distinctly. “Probably not.”

“So, there is a chance that it may have been easily to misunderstand?”

“I don’t know. But I definitely didn’t say anything that would imply that I’m gay!”

“It’s not about what it sounded like to you, Dean. It’s about what came across.” Sam’s voice is a little bit on the teasing side.

Dean sighs and presses the heels of his hand in his eyes. “Do you think Bela also misunderstood that… Oh.” He bobs up, suddenly realizing that Bela probably really misunderstood him.

“What?” Sam asks, eyeing him carefully.

“Shit, that explains her reaction. Oh no, that can’t be true. Bela, Garth, you, Cas… who else might know about this?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t think Garth told anyone else. And I just told Cas,” Sam says and quietly mumbles the next sentence. “Well, and Eileen.”

“You told Eileen?”

“Dean, she's my girlfriend, I hope she’s going to be my wife someday. I don’t keep anything from her. And also, she cares about you a lot, just like I do. I thought maybe she knows something I don’t and saw this coming.”

Dean can’t believe this is all really happening. “Wow, great. So, I guess she played along in this little plan of yours. Wait, she didn’t forget her keys, right? It was just so you would have an excuse to go and leave me and Cas alone.” Sam’s expression is everything he needs to know the answer.

“Sorry. I thought it’s a good idea. And I thought you wouldn’t mind me telling her. She’s family, you said so yourself,” Sam says defensive.

“Yeah, but you did tell Cas.” And immediately there’s this spark of anger again. This is the actual cause of his rage last night. That his little brother tried to arrange him a… what? A gay mentor? A wingman? “Why the hell did you do that. I mean, if you thought I wasn’t _out of the closet_ to you, did you really think I would’ve like it for you to spill it to someone I don’t even know?”

Sam seems to sense his rekindling temper. “I was concerned that you might close up because you have no one to talk to, no one to help you come to term with it. And I knew that Cas had some troubles himself coming to terms with his sexuality and especially with his family in the process.”

“So, you thought ‘hey, let him play friends a little while with my brother, gain his trust, and then they’ll start a crochet group and slurp Appletinis’?”

“You made it clear by now that it wasn’t the best idea, but what if you really were into men?”

“But I’m not!” Really, how often would he have to repeat himself.

“Dean, please, it was a misunderstanding, but now I know what really happened and the topic is over for me,” Sam sighs.

They stay silent for a minute or two. Thoughts are swirling through Dean’s mind and one specific concern keeps nagging at him. “You weren’t shocked, when Garth told you I’d be into men?”

Him speaking again interrupts Sam in whatever thoughts he just had. “Well, not _shocked_ but maybe surprised. I assure you, I never had a suspicion or anything before. But of course, I thought that maybe I missed something. You have a thing for Dr. Sexy, not only the show, but the guy. And you said yourself that Han Solo looks ‘damn good’ in that outfit.”

“Oh come one, really? Because I can admit that some other dude is not ugly that automatically means I’d like to do some horizontal jogging with him? You know that’s stupid.” It’s crazy. Everything Dean does and how he dresses himself, gives nothing off but straight vibes, about that he’s sure. Just because he has a guilty pleasure like some TV show?

“I know you don’t have to be into men to appreciate when some guy is handsome. But it just fit into the whole situation.”

It’s too much. The whole situation is far more complicated than Dean had thought. He knows now how it all started, and also what Sam’s intention were, but he doesn’t feel much wiser than before. His head aches, his mind is spinning and although the topic should be ready to file away and never get out again, it doesn’t feel like. For Dean it’s not over, but he doesn’t really know what exactly.

“I don’t want anymore, Sam,” he says, “let’s talk another time. I didn’t get much sleep last night and all I really want right now is a long shower and a nap.” He stands up from his seat and drowns the rest of his – now cold – coffee.

“Okay.” Sam gets up too and accompanies him to the door, which is unnecessary. “Are we good?”

“Yes, we’re good,” is all Dean answers.

When he’s halfway out of the door, Sam speaks up again. “And it really isn’t Cas’ fault. At all.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Back in the Impala, Dean can’t remember a conversation that exhausted him that much. Sam probably won’t let it slide for another few days, if not weeks, but so does his own mind. It’s nagging at him the rest of the day and the following Sunday, too. The question is: Why?

 

The following week helps nothing to get his mind away from this horrible misunderstanding. The whole issue is kind of wigging him out. He’s trying not to overthink it, and he’s trying to be cool about it, but it’s damn hard. He turns the music at the shop to full volume, just to not hear his own thoughts. Benny and Jo even start to pull out ear muffs when he enters the garage in the morning. It’s a mocking gesture, but it keeps Dean edgy the entire day. At four p.m. on Friday, he has enough of the surrounding, slams a wrench on the workbench and leaves without even clearing up his work place. He really needs a drink.

Fortunately, there is a sports bar around the corner from his apartment. It’s poorly lit, offers a wide range of different beers and Whiskeys, and smells of testosterone from a mile away. Just the right place for this evening. Dean takes one beer, then another and another; he loses count somewhere in between, but he feels good. The match, he doesn’t even remember the type of sport, is just noise in the background. He has the bar almost for himself and he knows the blonde barkeeper flirts with him. She’s beautiful, long legs, slender waist but curvy around the hip. When she whispers in his ear that she’d like to see him after her shift, he muses about the offer for a moment. As by a miracle, he declines, for one because he feels more than slightly buzzed, and for two because he just doesn’t feel in the mood right now. She takes it with pride and uses every chance to shake her hips when she passes him that evening.

At half past ten, Dean wonders if it might be time to leave, when a tall, dark-haired guy takes the place next to him and orders the same beer as himself. The man takes a sip from his bottle and turns to Dean.

“Hey, I’m Alan.”

Dean eyes him warily. “Hi. I’m Dean,” he says and turns his attention back to his own beer. But he can feel Alan’s glance on the side of his face. “You want anything?”

“Oh, yeah well,” the smaller guy shifts closer on the barstool, “I saw you turning down the bartender. And you didn’t seem to take a look at the other waitresses around here. So, I thought, maybe a guy like you is searching for something else.”

It’s not even the words that make Dean lose his temper, it’s the expression on the other man’s face. He knows it all too well, because he has the same expression whenever he searches for someone to warm his bed at night.

“What the hell,” he yells, jumping from his seat, “Go away from me!”

Alan’s eyes widen in realization and horror. “Oh, ehm, sorry. I really didn’t mean to… I mean, I thought…” He stops for a moment, his hands raised in defense. “I’ll go, sorry, really. Just… please don’t hit me.”

Dean realizes he must look terrifying right now, so instead of fight, he takes the flight opportunity, puts a few bills on the table and storms out of the bar into the cooling night air. He leans against a lamp post for a second to stop his vision from blurring and makes his way to his apartment. _Why is this shit happening to me?_ It’s the last thought he has before he falls asleep on top of the covers.

 

Dean nearly goes insane as things keep happening over the weekend and the next week. One evening he lounges in front of the TV for a brand-new episode of Dr. Sexy M.D. and munches a bowl of microwave popcorn. When the lead character enters with his cowboy boots first to be seen, Dean appreciates the scrubs he’s wearing. Not everyone can look that sexy in them. The moment he realizes his thought, he grabs for the remote and turns the TV off. _Where the hell did that come from?_

On another day, a tape gets stuck in his car, but he’s too lazy to fix it right away, so he listens to the radio for once. Maybe he’ll get a bit up to date about music. When Taylor Swift’s ‘Shake it off’ plays and Dean finds himself singing to it and even drumming the beat on his steering wheel, he fixes the tape player first thing he comes home.

He has an argument with Sam when the two meet up for dinner. His brother confronts him with his allegedly ‘overcompensating’ behavior, asks him if he would teach Ben to not like Taylor Swift or anything else than rock music. Sam is right, but Dean can’t and won’t admit it, because he’s stubborn. They don’t part on good terms that evening.

 

On Saturday, two weeks after the enlightening conversation with his brother, Dean traipses round the toy stores in Overland Park in search of a birthday present for his son. He’s going to take Ben to an observatory, but he also wants to have something the boy can unwrap. The soon to be eight-year-old is in a space-obsession phase, his room plastered with posters of planets and universes. Dean scans the shelves for anything suitable and in the end goes with a Lego space shuttle. On the way to the checkout he passes a large area with console games, filled with kids playing Mario Kart and whatnot. A redheaded woman, sitting cross-legged in front of a PlayStation, draws his attention. She looks somewhat familiar, so he stands there for a moment, trying to remember where he knows her from. When she turns her face in his direction, he knows it.

“Charlie?” Her head bobs up when hearing the name, so he has been right. Once her view focuses on him, her eyes widen and her face lights up in a toothy grin. She jumps to her feet and is right in front of him in seconds.

“Dean?” He nods as an answer. “Wow,” she shrieks and hugs him tight. “How long has it been? Ten years?”

“Yeah, a long time,” he answers. It really feels like ages ago that they sat next to each other in the class room, catching up on their high school diploma. But seeing her in front of him, he feels like twenty-one again. She hasn’t aged a day. “You look great.”

“You, too,” she says and nudges him in the shoulder, “still a smoothie, huh?”

Dean just shrugs. Wow, it feels so weird, meeting her again after all this time.

“What you’re doing here?” she asks.

He holds up the toys packaging. “Buying a birthday present for my son.”

Dean wouldn’t have considered it possible for her eyes to widen even more, but they do. “You have a son? Wow, that’s… just wow. How old is he? What’s his name?”

Ah, yes, she hasn’t changed a bit. Still quirky and vibrant and overflowing with mirth. “He’ll be eight in a month. And his name is Ben.”

She asks another few questions, searching for every bit of detail she can get, but soon, the two of them impede other customers by standing in the way, so Dean pays for the Lego toy. But Charlie is nowhere near finished with talking and physically drags him into the next coffee shop. They talk and drink and talk and drink; It feels like hours, because take their time to get each other up to date. It’s simple, uncomplicated and Dean wonders why on earth they hadn’t stayed in contact. After his work, family and hobbies, the topic left untold is the one that follows him everywhere these days. He doesn’t know why, but with a freshly brewed cup of coffee in his hand, he spills his fiasco to Charlie. He talks and talks and doesn’t stop until every little bit of information is out in the open. It’s like he’s telling it himself. Hearing it for the first time in one non-stop story, it almost sounds like fiction.

Charlie just listens, nods from time to time, but keeps quiet until Dean is finished. It calms him, that he’s able to voice his view on the events without interruption. Maybe it’s one of these crazy things people just do. When it feels more comfortable to spill personal things to strangers than to your family. But Charlie isn’t a stranger, not really. Maybe it’s because she wouldn’t judge him. No, that’s not the matter, his brother and Bobby and his mom would never judge him.

Maybe it’s because Charlie is the only one around, he feels not responsible for. The only person he can talk to because he doesn’t feel the urge to impress her, to not _disappoint_ her.

With the last sentence of his narrative said, he waits for a reaction.

“You’re an idiot,” she says plainly after a moment of consideration.

That’s not the feedback he hoped to get, but the one he assumed. It’s hard to understand his reaction in hindsight, but in the heat of the moment, it seemed like the only way for him.

“Yeah, thank you. My brother already told me.”

“With good reason,” she mumbles, poking in a chocolate-cheesecake muffin with her fork. “Really, Dean. I understand that you felt uncomfortable at first. That you were surprised and so on. Although it sounds funny to me, like rom-com material.”

“Charlie, please,” he sighs.

“What do you want to hear from me? You’re talking to a lesbian, of course I stick with the gay guy.”

Dean pinches the bridge of his nose. He’s so done with all of this. Can’t someone be on his side in this topic. “And objectively? Without the gay Brownie points?”

“Objectively?” she asks with raised eyebrows, “the same. It was a damn misunderstanding, Dean. Get that in your head. No one planned to make you question your masculinity, which I can assure you is intact, they just wanted to help. So, don’t get your panties in a twist when a guy hits on you. I get hit on by men all the time. Do I get angry and mad? No! Because I just tell them I play for the other team, and the issue is solved.”

Dean opens his mouth again to retort, but closes it again. He has nothing to say and that’s stunning him.

“If you want to listen to Country songs or Pop songs, do it. If you don’t, then don’t. You can appreciate a man’s hot ass as much as you want without climbing on the Kinsey scale. I can admit that your good-looking, even smoking hot, without getting the heebie-jeebies about my sexuality. So please, man up!” She breathes heavily by the time she finishes her lecture.

Dean looks at her with wide eyes. _She’s right._ Charlie actually is right. He’s been stupid, no, more than that, he’s been an asshole. Misunderstandings happen, and he wasn’t uninvolved in its origin in the first place. Sam tried to be a caring brother and he was. Cas… Cas wanted to help someone he didn’t even know with his own painful experiences. Wow. He really fucked up.

“I’m an idiot,” he says simply.

“Congratulations. A fault confessed is half redressed,” she smiles. “So, if you ask me, I’d say you owe your brother an apology. And Cas, too.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Again.” He squints at her. “But Cas? I mean, I probably won’t see him again and I guess he wouldn’t even want to.”

“Do you tell your son to just let it slide, when he messes things up?”

Why do people always bring up his parenting as an argument. It’s unfair. But it works.

“No, of course not,” he says grudgingly. He wants to be a role model for Ben. A better one than his father has been for him.

And to be just that, he takes off early on Monday at work and drives to his brother’s office to meet up for lunch. Sam seems to be impressed that Dean takes the first step, that he apologizes, and it soothes his battered ego. When his little brother tells him to wait outside for him to finish some files, Dean wanders the halls in search of a name written on a door. He guesses the person he’s trying to find has an own office. Once he’s found it, he listens for any voices from inside. It’s quiet, but to be one hundred percent sure, he presses his ear carefully to the door. He hears typing, so the office is definitely not empty, but no voices, so he’s probably alone and not on the phone.

Taking on last deep breath, Dean knocks. When he is asked to come in, he opens the door slowly.

“Hello Cas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, I hope I can manage to make it stay interesting. I'm relatively new to writing in general (and in English even more), so I'm testing out a bit of style and struggle with the balance of keeping it short and interesting and giving enough details. Please feel free to draw my intention to big mistakes I make, so I can learn. Editing is not my skill domain :)
> 
> Leave some comments, I'd be delighted ;)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, another chapter this week :) It's a shorter one this time, but I thought this is the right spot to make the cut.  
> I hope you enjoy it, and wish you all a great weekend <3

On some days, he loves his job. Days, on which Castiel has the feeling of doing good, of helping people and countering injustice. On other days, he doesn’t like his job that much, when a client is a complete idiot but fetches a lot of money for the law firm. He knew there would be a lot of those days when he decided to become a lawyer and it never has been a problem. He’s good at his job and can keep it professional in every situation so far. But then there are days like this Monday, where he feels like nothing but a well-paid secretary for his bosses.

It’s about noon when a knock on the door interrupts him in writing one of dozens of emails that day.

“Come in!” he says, hoping it wouldn’t get him another trivial task.

The door opens slowly and reveals the person he least expected to ever see again.

“Hello Cas.” Dean Winchester stands in the doorway to his office, smiling shyly. “You got a minute?”

Instead of answering with words, Castiel nods and points to the chairs on the other side of his desk. Why is Dean here? They haven’t spoken a single word since the fiasco at the Roadhouse and Castiel was glad about that. He felt miserable for days after their argument. For one, because he hates to be accused for a mistake that hasn’t been his fault, and for two because he started to like Dean and had slight hopes to find a friend in the other man.

Dean sits down and stares at his lap for a few long seconds. Castiel stays quiet too, it isn’t _his_ job to make the conversation.

“Look, I’m here to apologize, Cas,” Dean starts, “For what I said in the Roadhouse last time. And not only for _what_ I said, but that I yelled at you.”

Castiel has to admit that he’s pleasantly surprised. “I appreciate your apology,” he says. It’s a bit of a reserved answer, which the other man seems to notice, but he still has the feeling something fishy is going on. Why would Dean come to apologize to him after over two weeks? And why of all places in his office?

“You didn’t know it’s been a misunderstanding, you wanted to help, and I reacted in the shittiest way possible. I’m sorry.”

It seems genuine to Castiel, the way the dark-blond man sits in the chair, how he slouches his shoulders. He regrets his behavior, that’s for sure.

“Did you only have a problem with the misunderstanding… or with me being gay?” Just because Castiel forgives the other man, doesn’t mean he can’t give him a hard time apologizing. He knows that Dean wasn’t homophobic in general that evening, but that he’s now gasping, wide-eyed and in search for the right words, gives Castiel a bit of satisfaction.

“No, Cas really, I’m not homophobic. Like, at all! I was just an idiot okay? I talked without thinking… or with overthinking it. I’m a bit… sensitive when it’s about my masculinity, I guess,” he starts fidgeting with a pen on Castiel’s desk and obviously struggles with his wording. It makes the lawyer smile softly.

“Please, believe me,” Dean goes on, “my brother always tells me to think before I speak.” He sighs. “I needed to apologize to him too, because I didn’t actually treat him that well either. A friend gave me a piece of her mind, so I’m here. Damn, I’m really not good at this.”

Now Castiel has to laugh. “Dean, I know you didn’t mean to insult me. I’m just giving you a hard time. A bit of payback,” he reassures the taller man.

“Really? Oh god, thanks. Talking like this kinda gets my stomach in a twist.”

Dean’s posture changes completely that moment. He sits more upright, his broad shoulders, arms and chest displaying his obvious strength instead of submissiveness. And there’s a hint of the smile that fascinated Castiel the first moment he met his co-worker’s older brother.

“Now that your gastric function is back to normal, is there anything else you wanted to talk about?”

“Oh, ehm, yes. Last time, we talked about going to the movies. You, Sam and me. For the Back-to-the-Future marathon. If you’re still up for it, I’d like to invite you, as compensation. Sam and I will definitely go and we’d like you to join us.”

Castiel has to take a moment to think about the offer. He can’t decline with how sweet Dean asked, and he has to admit that he wants to go, but he still needs a moment. The last time they talked about it, he decided that it’s time; that he took too long to watch these movies. It’s almost four years and the DVD’s just gather dust in a box in his apartment.

“I’d like to,” he answers. _For Anna._

 

\----------

 

Dean feels great after he could make up with his brother and Cas, and his positive mood continues for the next two weeks. He does a lot of hours in the shop to help Benny with a bunch of bikes for a local group of middle-aged men whose kids are all off to college and who booked their wives a wellness week at a mountain spa hotel to go on a road trip to a metal concert together. With Garth back at work from visiting his parents, Dean finally has a clarifying and awkward talk with the mechanic. He put off talking to Garth for as long as possible, but eventually couldn't stand the other man's sympathetic slaps on the back any longer.

He gets another two postcards from his mom, Lake Geneva and Cologne this time, and picks up Ben for the weekend. It’s amazing three days. They eat at Bobby's and Ellen's on Friday and go fishing on Saturday, leaving Sunday for round after round of Mario Kart on the Wii Dean bought – for his son of course – and Sonic the Hedgehog on an old SEGA console he found in a garage sale a few months back. This purchase resulted in a weekend of Sam and him hiding in his apartment, eating junk food – which Sam denies to the day – and pushing buttons at a stretch.

He meets up with Charlie again and promises to himself that this time they wouldn’t just part ways that easily for years. All in all, it’s one of the best two weeks in a row he can remember, and with the movie marathon coming up on the weekend, it’s probably going to get even better.

The marathon starting at 5:30 pm means that with all three films and breaks in between, they aren’t going to get out of the theatre before midnight. With that in mind, Dean decides on a comfy pair of jeans and a soft, dark green Henley. By the time he’s ready to go, Sam calls to cancel on short notice because of an emergency work issue, but wishes him and Cas a lot of fun. Dean sends a short message to Cas and they decide to go without Sam.

 

“Hey, Cas.” Dean says once he sees the other man standing in front of the theater at his arrival. He doesn’t recognize Cas at first, as he’s never seen the lawyer in denim and a sweatshirt instead of a suit. He still wears that oversized trench coat, though.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas replies.

Within minutes, they show their tickets at the entrance and stand in line for popcorn and sweets. The theater is full – the screening takes place in the largest hall – so it takes a while for them to finally reach the counter. But the waiting doesn’t seem that long to Dean anyway, as he eagerly chats with Cas.

When a group of teenagers in front of them finishes buying their stuff, they squeeze past Cas, loaded with popcorn, and the dark-haired man has to lean into Dean to let them pass. Dean feels a bit nervous at the sudden proximity and steps to the side as unobtrusively as he can manage to make room. Cas still notices the movement and apologizes, which Dean waves off quickly with a laugh.

“Take whatever you want. It’s on me,” he says when the guy behind the counter asks them what they want.

Dean himself eyes the variety of wine gums and reaches for the licorice, but withdraws his hand when Cas grabs the same bag. “We can get two sorts and share?” he says.

Cas grins and Dean feels happy to finally know someone who shares his weakness for licorice.

In the end, they decide to share a jumbo pack of popcorn as well as sundry bags of sweets, and each take a cup of soda.

They have great seats in the back of the hall with only two rows behind them. “Let me take your coat,” Dean offers when Cas takes it off, “we can use the third free seat for our jackets.”

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas answers with a smile and hands him the trench coat.

Low whistling and “awwww” cries catch Deans attention from behind and when he squints in direction of its origin, he sees the four teenagers from before sitting right in their back. What the hell is wrong with them? Have they never seen two male friends going to the movies together?

He sits down next to Cas, who is completely oblivious to what just happened, and breathes in deeply to calm himself. It’s no use to be worked up about this. He’s going to have a great evening with Cas, watching movies and eating junk food and some wannabes are not going to ruin it.

Just as the two of them store their munchies on the armrest between them, the lights go out and the mandatory commercials begin, before Steven Spielberg's name and the ticking of dozens of clocks announce the beginning of the film. Dean glances to his side from time to time to see Castiel's reaction, mostly on the iconic scenes, and the usually reserved lawyer's face shows enthusiasm in its purest form. His eyes crinkle when he laughs, showing a hint of crow feed and even from the side Dean can make out the other man's gummy smile. It fascinates him how Cas loosens up and smiles with his whole body. Every now and then, the dark-haired man looks at him, or their fingers touch in the popcorn bag, and Dean feels like there is a thought in the back of his mind. Like an idea he can’t remember anymore.

In the twenty minutes break between the first two parts of the trilogy, they take turns with going to the toilet and fill up their sodas. The pile of snacks has already dwindled to a fraction. While Cas is still outside doing his business, Dean temporarily stores the rest of the popcorn and licorice on Cas' seat to get comfortable again in his own armchair.

“Oh, wait,” he picks up their sweets when Cas returns, “there you go.”.

“Thank you, Dean,” the other man answers with a gentle smile and hands him a paper cup, “I brought you another coke, so you don't have to stand up again.”.

Dean happily takes the cup. “Oh, thanks Cas. How much do I owe you?”.

"Nothing, it's on me." Cas answers. “And before you say that the evening is on you: I insist.”

He has to laugh because that’s exactly what he wanted to say, so instead he just grins at Cas and replies “Well, in that case, thank you very much.”

Repeated whistling and giggling from behind makes Dean turn around and give the teenagers the evil eye, but that just encourages them. Really, why do they feel the need to giggle and whistle at everything he or Cas do? He is just being nice. Not _I’m-on-a-date_ nice, but _let-me-help-you-my-friend_ nice. Do they really think that he and Cas are on a date? That’s ridiculous.

“Is something wrong?” Cas asks when he sits down next to Dean.

“Hm? Oh, nothing. It’s just… no, it’s nothing.”

 Castiel eyes him skeptical but doesn’t say anything else.

In the next break, they decide to stretch their legs and go outside. Dean takes Cas’ coat and briefly considers helping the other man into it, but then remembers the boys and girls from behind them and quickly shoves the fabric into Cas’ hands.

They get a stamp on the hand when leaving the building and turn from the bunch of people using the break for a cigarette. Instead, they lean into the wall next to a lamp post and enjoy the cool breeze. Dean produces a bag of gummi bears from his pocket and Cas laughs at that. “Really, Dean? You can’t even wait twenty minutes?”

“No. And now I don’t share with you,” he answers giggling and pulls the bag closer to his body.

But Cas seems to like some too, so the lawyer steps right next to Dean and grabs into the bag. Their shoulders are touching, and the warm body feels nice compared to the chill of the night. They stay like this for a few minutes, quietly munching on their sweets. _It really is a nice evening_ , Dean thinks. Well, wouldn’t it be for those dickheads in the row behind them. It really unnerves him and he can’t even explain why. They are just teenagers, trying to mess with him, but it drives him up the wall.

“Aren’t you two sweet?” two young women say when they pass by. Dean tenses up. Why is everyone thinking he and Cas are on a date? Does the universe have no other problems than messing with him?

“Dean, what’s up? You seem a bit tense the whole evening,” Cas says, turning to him.

Great, now Cas wants to talk about it.

“It’s nothing, Cas. Don’t worry, I’m fine.”

The other man eyes him for a few seconds. “You don’t seem to be fine. Is it because of those women?”

“No, it’s…” Dean starts but interrupts himself. Why does he feel the need to be honest here? “Okay, yes. I don’t like how they implied that we are… well, a _couple_ or so.”

Castiel laughs under his breath. “You really have a problem with that, don’t you?”

Dean shrugs. There’s nothing to deny here. “Yes? I don’t know, it’s kinda unnerving me. And not only these two girls. It’s mostly the teenagers in the row behind us.” When Cas looks at him quizzically, he explains further. “They giggle and whistle all the time and crie ‘awww’ and so on. I hate it.”

“Come on, Dean. They are teenagers, what do you expect? Are you telling me you care what they think?”

Of course, Cas would turn it that way. And of course, he doesn’t understand in the slightest what Dean means. Hell, he doesn’t even know it himself, if he’s honest.

“No… I don’t care what they think, it’s just…. It just freaks me out.”

Cas stays quiet for a moment, looking down at his feet, like he considers if he should say something or not. That freaks Dean out even more.

“Dean,” Cas says eventually, “Are you uncomfortable with someone gay at your side? With me here?”

_Oh shit._ “What? Cas, no. Come one, we already had that. I don’t care that you’re gay. And I don’t feel uncomfortable at your side. It’s the complete opposite! And just so you know, you don’t even look a bit gay.”

And as soon as he said it out loud he wants to have that damn DeLorean to turn back time, because he knows what Cas is going to say and it is written all over the face of the Lawyer before he even opens his mouth "And how exactly do gay men look like, Dean?"

He really should start to think things through before he opens his mind. But now it’s too late anyway.

“You know what I mean, Cas.”

The other man’s eyes wide even further and he balls his hands in fists. He’s fuming, and Dean doesn’t like that at all. “What do you expect someone _like me_ to look like, huh? Don’t I wear enough pink? Or should I pluck my eyebrows? Oh, sorry, I forgot my earrings tonight.”

It was a really nice evening, but he just had to ruin it. Trust Dean Winchester to make a fool of himself twice for the same silly mistake.

“Cas, I’m sorry, that’s not at all what I meant. I know it’s a prejudice, I know that your appearance doesn’t mean anything. I was just being stupid again, because I’m bad at wording.”

It seems to calm the other man and Dean sighs in relief. They still settle into an uncomfortable silence and Dean gets more nervous by the minute. Slowly the other people go back inside until the two of them are the only ones left.

“We should go inside,” Dean says eventually, “the third movie is about to begin any minute.”

He waits for Cas to answer, or to move, or to do anything but stare down at his feet.

“I’m not in the mood,” he says.

“What?” Dean asks.

“I’m not in the mood,” Cas repeats himself. “I really don’t feel like watching the movie anymore. And a lot of people watched our argument. I’m not going inside there again. Sorry, Dean, but you have to watch it alone.” With that he presses the almost empty bag of gummi bears he still had in his hands back to Dean.

“What? No, Cas. Come on. I apologized. I meant it. Please don’t go.” He fucked up again and if Cas leaves now it will mean the end to their yet to establish friendship.

“No, Dean, I really don’t want to. I accept your apology, but I’m going home.” Cas’ expression is tired when he smiles vaguely at him. He mumbles a short goodbye and walks away on the pavement.

Dean can’t believe he did it again. He was enjoying himself extremely and with one stupid commentary, he screwed up royally. It’s going to be a stiff piece of work to fix this. And Sam will kill him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know, Dean's being stupid... AGAIN. But he'll pull himself together, I promise.
> 
> Oh, yeah, btw I'm on tumblr now (welcome to the 21. century, myself), so if you'd like to say hello (that's what people do on tumblr, right?): https://riverchester.tumblr.com/


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, ANOTHER chapter. I can't promise to keep this frequency of updates, but I had a few free days and nothing else to do than write.  
> And I'm finally getting Destiel on the road in this chapter (slowly). Sorry you had to wait so long, but I just couldn't rush into it. It's from both Dean's and Cas' POV again.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it and wish you all a good start into the new week.

He should call Sam. There’s no way around it, if he wants to prevent that his little brother learns about his asshole behavior from Cas. If he doesn’t confess himself, Sam would eventually cross paths with the other lawyer. Maybe not on Monday, but eventually the topic will come up. So, Dean decides to just man up and do it himself.

It’s not his most precious experience to get scolded by his little brother. And, oh, does Sam give him a piece of his mind. But the younger man is right in everything he says. Dean has been childish, needlessly sensitive and on top of all insulting. It must have sounded incredibly shitty from Cas’ perspective. Dean is not only sorry, he goes bright red with shame. Why the hell did he care what these teenagers thought? Let them giggle as much as they want, he knows the truth and that is what counts. He should’ve seen the two women outside the building calling them _sweet_ as a compliment. He’s a handsome guy and Cas is too, so in other people’s eyes, they would make one hell of a couple.

Sam makes him feel bad, and he knows that he deserves it, so he listens to everything his brother has to say, which is a lot. But more than anything, he wants Sam’s advice, because he intends to make it all up to Cas. His motivation is high; he wants to be the other man’s friend and needs to proof that he is more than his constant faults and mistakes. To Cas, to himself.

“Do you know anything specific he likes? Something I could get as a present? Does he eat special cookies at work or drink a specific coffee brand?” he says.

“Not that I know of,” Sam answers and Dean sighs. If he tries to search for something on his own, he’ll probably blunder. “Oh wait,” Sam adds, “he drinks tea at work and uses this fancy organic honey in it. He stores a jar in the break room and no one dares to use it.”

Well, that’s definitely something he can work with. “Great, do you know the brand?”

“No,” Sam admits, “he buys it directly from a beekeeper, but I don’t know the name. I could take a look at the jar tomorrow, if you want.”

Dean thanks the universe for his little brother. “Thanks Sam, I owe you one.”

“Just promise me you won’t screw that up again and I’m fine.”

He has to laugh. “I promise,” Dean says. And he intends to keep word.

 

On Monday he gets a picture from Sam showing a half-empty jar of honey with a neatly labeled sticker on it. Dean looks up the beekeeper on the internet and calls the man, who lives a short drive outside of town, to pick up a large jar of Cas’ favorite honey. For Tuesday, he plans to visit Cas in the office. Fortunately, his employees don’t ask when he simply takes off in the middle of the day. He wouldn’t like them to know how many working hours he skipped lately to make up for his silly mistakes.

That’s how he finds himself standing in front if Cas’ office again, bracing himself to apologize. Again. _Hello, Groundhog Day_.

 

 

\----------

 

Cas ran from meeting to meeting on Tuesday morning and secludes himself in his office for lunch. When there’s a knock on the door, he briefly muses about staying quiet, but that just isn’t an option, so he asks whoever stands outside to come in. It could have been another lawyer, or a secretary or an intern, but to see Dean Winchester standing on his doorstep is not at all what Castiel expected. It’s a déjà vu to two weeks ago.

“Dean?” He asks. “What are you doing here?”

The taller man enters his office and closes the door behind himself. “I’m here to apologize. Again.”

Castiel huffs. He is still upset with Dean. He tried to tell himself that the other man didn’t mean anything of the things he said on Saturday, but years of offensive and insulting commentaries in his direction made him sensitive towards homophobic language in any way. What unnerves him the most, is that he still wanted to see Dean again after he left the theater that weekend. He had a lot of fun on Saturday – well, at first – and wants to spend more time with this infuriating, maddening man.

He’s drawn to Dean’s charm, his simple but gentle and caring personality, which Castiel had the opportunity to see before their argument outside the building. But he would lie to himself if he said this is all. That Dean’s mesmerizing attractiveness leaves him cold. He’s handsome, beautiful and sexy all at once, and it takes all of Castiel’s willpower to not act overwhelmed in Dean’s presence.

So, on Sunday he thought that maybe it’s better for them the way it turned out. If they don’t see each other again, Dean doesn’t feel uncomfortable anymore and he himself would keep his mind. But a tiny self-destructive part of him doesn’t care about what’s right and only about what he wants. And that is the man currently standing in front of him. He knows he shouldn’t think like this, but he can’t help it.

Dean starts to apologize, to practically beg for his forgiveness, but Castiel intends to maintain his decision, for their own wellbeing. He doesn’t want Dean to feel bad. Yes, he wants the other man to understand why his words can hurt people, but he feels that Dean doesn’t do it out of aversion or disgust. It doesn’t make it better, that Dean learned to speak like this, is used to words that can easily end up hurting people, but Cas doesn’t think it entitles himself to let the other man suffer. So, he’ll forgive Dean, but he will end their acquaintanceship here.

“I brought something for you,” Dean says after a few minutes. He slowly approaches Cas’ desk – he hasn’t sat down the whole time – and puts a brown paper bag on the table.

When Cas opens it, his brain abandons whatever he wanted to say to Dean. It’s a jar of his favorite honey. A really big jar.

“How do you…?” Cas asks. It’s the first thing he says in their conversation at all.

Dean scratches the back of his neck, now standing directly behind one of the chairs and leaning one arm on the backrest. “Sam told me about the honey, so I bought a jar for you. I know, it doesn’t make up for my behavior, but I still wanted you to have it. The beekeeper was so nice to sell me your favorite sort.”

It throws Castiel off track how much effort Dean has put into apologizing to him. To him, an acquaintance, not a long-term friend. “Dean, you didn’t have to do that.”

“I know, Cas, but I wanted to.” Dean says and then sighs. He finally sits down in the chair and Castiel swallows when eyes too green to be real look directly into his own. “I like you. You’re funny and I feel comfortable in your presence, which doesn’t happen that often to me. What happened on Saturday had nothing to do with you, but with me being stupid and paranoid. So, I really, really hope, that you consider meeting up with me again. I promise to behave this time. You can slap me whenever I’m not.”

Castiel laughs. “Okay, Dean, I forgive you. And I would like to meet up again, too.” _Damn, that wasn’t my plan_. But really, did he had any choice than to accept this man’s offer?

 

\----------

 

Dean leaves Cas’ office with a bright smile on his face and a weight lifted from his shoulders. He stops by Sam to report to his brother, who slaps him on the back, and leaves to at least get something done at his own workplace that day.

He spends a few days thinking on something to do with Cas and gets the perfect idea when Benny tells him about a new Irish pub in Overland Park that plays live music on Saturdays. Meeting up for a beer and music on a weekend sounds casual and harmless enough for him not to freak out again, so he texts Cas and invites the other man to join him.

**> > Cas: That is a good idea, Dean. It is actually right around the corner from my apartment and I pass it on my way to work. I always wanted to go there, but it’s not that much fun alone.**

Dean smiles at Cas answer. It’s settled, he has another chance to prove he’s not an idiot.

 

He takes his time on Saturday to look decent. Not that an Irish pub would be a fancy place he needed some special dressing for, but Cas looked really nice last Saturday, and he wants to match up to the dark-haired man. _Wow, where did that come from?_ Standing in front of his bathroom mirror and tidying up his short hair, Dean has to admit that Cas is a handsome guy, even sexy with the constant bed head and piercing blue eyes. Sam is right, he doesn’t have to be gay to admit someone is hot. _Okay, “hot” is maybe a bit of a strong word._ But why deny it? He is hot himself, too, so he can damn well appreciate it when another man is attractive.

He even decides on his flattering pair of jeans and a close-fitting but casual button-down. It’s not that he wants to impress someone, but if he’s going to show himself from his best side, he won’t do it half-heartedly.

They arranged to meet in front of the pub at eight and again, Cas already waits for him when Dean arrives. And boy, does that guy clean up well. He has a bit of stubble and his hair is still tousled, but Dean kind of got attached to that anyway. Otherwise, he looks like he jumped right out of a catalog. Well-fitting jeans and a light sweater under the open trench coat reveal how muscular the man must be.

“Hey Cas.”

“Hello, Dean.”

They smile at each other and Dean opens the door for them to enter the pub. It’s already filled with dozens of people, so talks and laughter fill the air. The atmosphere is cozy, the dark wood on walls and the floor and the leather seats radiate something homey.

“Where do you want to sit?” Dean asks as he looks around, “At the bar or in a booth?”

“There’s a small table for two,” Cas answers, pointing to his left, “That should do it.”

They settle into their seats and Dean orders the first round of beer for them, Guinness, as Cas admits he never had one before.

Dean laughs when the other man grimaces with his first sip. His face scrunches up and make him look like a child. It’s adorable. “Not my taste,” Cas says.

“Yeah,” Dean chuckles, “it’s different from what you usually drink. Come on, give it to me. I’ll get you something else.”

Castiel bursts out laughing and Dean wonders what is so funny. “What?” he asks.

“It’s nothing,” Cas coughs, shoving his glass over to Dean, who shrugs and waves the waitress over.

An hour later, he and Cas have drunk themselves through half of the menu, Dean staying with beer and a whiskey, Cas acquiring a taste for cider. The fruity drink is too sweet for his liking, but seeing how Cas’ face lit up taking the first sip, Dean ordered another one for him. It’s not hard to tell that by the time the band comes up to play, the two men are pleasantly buzzed.

It’s not his usual taste in music, but the lead singer makes a great show and when he brings some song in acapella using a beer bottle on a table for a beat, Dean and Cas join the rest of the bar singing along without even knowing the lyrics. He watches the dark-haired man glancing at the guitarist and Dean wonders what he finds appealing at that guy. He’s tall and muscular and shows all of it in the sleeveless top. _Okay, he’s not totally ugly, but still… So, this is Cas’ type?_ He shakes himself to get rid of that thought before he does something stupid again like broaching it to Cas. Instead, he talks about more harmless topics and another hour flies by.

It’s nearly eleven when they decide to call it a night. The band starts packing up and the bar slowly clears out as well. Dean is not tired yet, but he is buzzed and needs to find a taxi to get back home.

Outside the building, with the cold night air clearing his head a bit, Dean pulls his phone out of his back pocket to look up the number of the taxi service.

“You want to take a taxi back to Lawrence?” Cas asks.

“Yeah, I’m not gonna drive back myself,” he laughs, “and Sam and Eileen are staying with some college friends this weekend.”

Maybe he hadn’t thought this whole evening through, but what else can he do now?

Cas looks at him like he considers something “Isn’t that really expensive?”

“Oh yes. Fortunately, my shop runs smoothly.”

While he looks up the number on the internet, Cas stares at his feet, before he says “You know, I have a guest room. You could stay there and drive back tomorrow.”

That’s actually not a bad idea. Rationally it would be the best solution, but Dean’s mind still searches for something that makes this wrong. They don’t know each other for long. But it’s not like they plan a slumber party, just him staying in Cas’ guest room for the night. _To hell with it!_

“That’d be great Cas. But only if it doesn’t bother you.”

The other man breaks out in a gummy grin, a sight Dean likes. “Not at all, Dean. Come one, I live only a block away.”

They trot next to each other on the pavement, Dean following Cas’ lead.

“Have you ever considered moving here?” Cas asks suddenly.

Dean laughs under his breath. It’s not the first time someone asked him that. Not the first time he asked it himself. “I want to. Yes, my shop is in Lawrence, but my son lives here, my brother, family… only my mom lives in Lawrence, but she doesn’t need me anymore, she has a boyfriend and is constantly on the road with him.”

Cas turns to him, the streetlights reflecting in his eyes, making them shine. “And what holds you back?”

“When I move, I’d like to buy a house. For the future. But right now, I don’t feel like living in a huge house without someone to share it with, waiting for the time I have a wife and another child or two, so it wouldn’t feel so lonely,” Dean sighs. Castiel stays quiet, just hums in what he assumes is sympathy.

They reach Cas’ apartment building and Dean follows the other man up to the fifth floor. Fortunately, there’s an elevator and soon the two of them enter Cas’ apartment.

“Wow, that’s a big screen. How comes you own such a thing and know so little about movies?” Dean whistles when he sees the huge TV. It fits to the interior, which is rather spare and modernly clean.

Cas joins him in the living room. “I actually just bought it because the wall looked kind of naked with my old TV.”

“You could've hung up a painting or a shelf.” Dean chuckles.

“I don't like to have a distraction in my view when I watch TV.”

Now Dean full on laughs. That’s typically Cas. At least from what he could learn about the other man by now. “you really have an explanation to everything, huh? No impulse buying because you just felt like doing it?”

“No.” Cas answers, but it sounds more like a question than a statement.

They're both still buzzed, Dean even might be a little drunk and as they're both not feeling tired yet, they settle for a bit of TV on the couch in front of Cas' enormous screen. The dark-haired man offers Dean a soft pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt for the night. He changes quickly and – now comfy – joins Cas, who changed into something more comfortable too. Zapping through the channels, Cas stops at a rerun of Dr. Sexy, which gets Dean’s attention.

“You watch Dr. Sexy?”

“Yes,” the lawyer answers, “I had a case last year where someone got fired because he watched it online during work time. I looked at it for research and got kind of stuck with it.”

Dean chuckles. That must’ve been the best research session ever. “Yeah, I can totally understand that,” he says. “Sam always teases me about watching it. He thinks it’s immature and inaccurate.”

“Objectively, it isn’t even good, but you still somehow…” Cas stops speaking, obviously in search for fitting words. Dean can relate, so he completes. “you still want to know what happens next.”

“Exactly!” Cas beams and they both burst into laughter.

“And I have a thing for him,” the dark-haired man adds after a while, when Dr. Sexy enters the scene, “even though he's not my type at all”

Feeling loose and happy that he finally knows someone with the same guilty pleasure, Dean agrees, “Me too!” He holds his breath when he realizes what he just said. With a bit of terror in his eyes, he glances over to Cas, who just smiles softly at him. It’s calming and reassuring. “it’s okay, Dean. I understand.”

That’s the problem, right? Does Cas understand? Does he himself understand, why his cheeks are burning right now and why the proximity between both men seems suddenly more… _significant_? His breathing sounds loud in his ears, as does his heartbeat. The actions on the screen blur from time to time in his vision and Dean is not sure what is happening. There is something on his mind, and he either doesn’t know what it is, or he’s too damn cowardly to admit it.

They settle into silence for a few minutes. It’s uncomfortable, at least for Dean. The rest alcohol in his blood won’t let him draw the curtain over the thought and a question nags at him, but it takes another minute and a hot make out session on the screen for him - or his alcohol infused brain - to be brave enough to ask it.

“What is it like?” he says and for a short moment he’s not sure Cas heard him, but then the other man turns his attention to Dean.

“What is what like?”

_Come on, man. Just say it. He won’t kill you for asking._ “To kiss a man.” It’s spoken almost silently and away from Cas face, the only answer he hears is Cas softly laughing. _Great, that went well._

“I’m sorry,” Cas says, “but that’s like one of the most clichéd question I get to hear from hetero guys. Right after ‘Who’s the girl in the relationship?’ or even ‘Don’t you think it’s just a phase?’.”

He can’t be serious. “Oh god, people really ask you that?” Dean stays quiet for a moment before going on „so, you probably won’t explain it to me… Not these other questions, I mean.”

“You mean kissing a man.”

Dean just nods and stares into Cas’ face, waiting for the other man to speak again.

“You know what kissing a woman is like, Dean. It’s not that different. For me, it just doesn’t feel as good to kiss a woman. It doesn’t feel right. That doesn’t mean I like to kiss every man.”

Yes, okay, Dean understands that the mechanics are the same. But there still has to be something different. “There has to be something you notice while kissing a man. I mean, your eyes are closed, you lean in, what is it that makes you feel 'yep, that's a man'?”

This actually seems to make Cas take a moment to think about it. Dean hopes that Cas knows his question isn’t meant to make fun of him or comes from incomprehension, but rather genuine interest.

Eventually, Cas starts to talk, his body turned to Dean and with a dead serious look on his face. “Well, with a little peck on the lips, there is hardly any difference. But if we talk about more passionate kissing, there are some obvious differences in the build of men and women. I can only speak for myself, and it doesn’t solely apply to kissing, but I like a strong jawline, and sharp features in general. I'm also a fan of a bit of stubble scratching my face or neck, more than the tickling of a beard.”

Dean absentmindedly brushes the back of his hand over his jaw and cheek to feel the stubble there. He hadn't bothered shaving that day. The slight scratchiness indeed feels nice.

“I hope you understand that this doesn’t explain why I just like kissing men, but that it’s what I search for in a kiss,” Cas adds. He looks at Dean expectantly. But expecting what exactly?

They are sitting face to face, closer than they have a few minutes ago, and the vivid hustle and bustle on the screen is long forgotten. _It is too easy_ , Dean thinks, _Too tempting._ Eyes wandering from those piercing blue ones in front of him to dry but soft looking lips, Dean leans in before his brain can stop him.

Cas' surprised intake of air is audible, but Dean doesn’t care about the startled expression on the other man's face. With how his head seems to spin from a little movement, he is amazed he didn’t miss Castiel's lips altogether. Just a little peck, and Cas was right, it doesn’t feel any different from what he knows about kissing, it doesn’t feel _weird_. So, fired by this realization, Dean leans in again and this time presses his lips fully on Castiel's. It’s not strange, it’s… good? Yes, it’s definitely good and Dean isn’t sure he can actually believe how good it is. He brings his hand up to let a thumb slide over Cas’ cheekbone and the other man’s stubble scratches his skin slightly, making it buzz. _Oh yeah, Cas is definitely right about the stubble._ He tries a few of his best moves, just for comparison, and takes pride in feeling the other man’s shiver under his skin.

Cas has one hand on Dean’s chest and uses it to push him away carefully. Their faces stay inches apart, both panting slightly. Cas is the first to avert his gaze and quietly says “Does that answer your question?”

Dean nods instead of answering with words because he doesn’t trust his voice right now. Slowly but steadily the realization of what happened kicks in and his whole body tenses because of the hard-wired fight or flight reaction he’s used to. As a result, he tries to get as far away from Cas as he can possibly get that night and excuses himself to bed. “Goodnight Cas,” he mumbles and doesn’t hear the other man's response as he is quick in closing the door to the guest room behind himself.

One may think Dean would lie in bed for hours without finding peaceful sleep and that is definitely what the mechanic thought would happen, but tiredness and booze make him fall asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. It doesn’t make the following morning easier, when Dean lies in the warmth of the sheets, smelling coffee and toast and hearing Cas putter around in the kitchen, while he has no idea what to do when he eventually would have to face the events of the previous night.

 

\----------

 

Cas wakes up early the next morning despite having fallen asleep late that night. He lies in the dark of his bedroom for a good half hour, trying to wrap his head around the events of the evening before. How did he end up kissing Dean? Or rather, how did he end up _being kissed_ by Dean? Cas would like to thank all the drinks they had for the experience of feeling Dean’s lips on his own and his hands on his face and shoulders. But he also wants to curse the alcohol after he saw the utter shock in Dean’s expression and how he quickly fled to the guest room. Throwing an arm over his eyes and mourning, Cas decides to stand up. He’s going to need a lot of caffeine to put up with Dean’s reaction. Whatever that may be.

On the way to the kitchen, he stops in front of the guest bedroom and listens for any noises, but it’s silent, so Dean is probably still asleep. Cas doesn’t open the door to make sure, because the sleeping form of Dean Winchester won’t help him get over last night’s events. After the first cup of coffee he feels more awake, clearer in his head, and starts setting the table for breakfast. He doesn’t know if Dean usually eats breakfast, or what he likes, but he guesses he couldn’t go wrong with toasts.

When Dean comes into the kitchen in his sweatpants and T-shirt, the atmosphere gets quickly tense and awkward after they share a quiet “good morning”.

Dean drums with his fingers on the kitchen counter and averts his gaze from Castiel when he eventually speaks. “Cas, look, about yesterday… I’m sorry. That was really inappropriate from me.”

So, no anger this time. Definitely an improvement Castiel can work with. But he doesn’t like Dean’s apology here either. The dark-blond man has done nothing wrong. The thing with too much alcohol is, that you easily do things you would never do in a sober state, right?

“It’s okay, Dean. We both had way too many drinks to think clearly. You don’t have to worry, we simply forget about it and move on,” he says and immediately sees Dean relax.

“…Okay. Yeah, thanks Cas.”

Funnily, Castiel himself doesn’t feel relieved in the slightest. “So, I’ve got coffee and toast,” he adds to not let them fall into awkward silence again.

“I already smelled it. Dragged me out of the sheets,” Dean smiles and they sit down at his small kitchen table, face to face.

That’s how Castiel finds himself having breakfast with Dean on a Sunday morning, going into raptures over the band from the night before and gossiping about some drunks at the table next to them in the pub. He can do it. He can forget the kiss, because it didn't mean anything after all. So instead, he settles for enjoying Dean's company, his laugh and shy smile. He settles for enjoying his beautiful bright eyes and the cute freckles on his face and the way he grins around a bite of toast and genuinely laughs at Cas’ odd jokes. Okay, maybe it's not going to be as easy as he thought. But he has no other choice. Because Dean is never going to like him in that way and Castiel still wants him to be around. Even just as a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave kudos and / or comments if you like, I'm always overwhelmed that there are actually people out there who like what I write <3
> 
> And if by any chance someone from Germany is reading this: have a nice holiday (or two, if you're as lucky as I am and have the extra holiday this year)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, I'm back with another chapter :) Took me longer than usual, but I just had to write a Coda to the last episodes first.  
> I missed to tell you that I'm seperating the POV with "----------", but I guess you already figured that out by now.  
> Anyway, we're getting Cas and Dean on the way a bit more in this chapter, so I hope you like it. Thank you for still reading <3

Okay, so he drunkenly kissed Cas. It’s not the stupidest thing he’s done when boozed up, but he usually doesn’t remember his stumbles this clearly. And if, they certainly don’t feel… _good_.

Dean tries to be mature about it. Cas said himself that it didn’t mean anything. Things like this just happen and it’s nothing to lose sleep over, so he shoves it into a dark, deep corner in his mind and – just to be sure – mentally sticks it to its place with duct tape. This suppression tactic works great for a few days. He goes to work, he meets up with friends for dinner and he picks up his mom and Mick from the airport when they return from their trip to Europe. She looks so vibrant and happy that Dean can’t tear his face away when the blonde woman raves about all the things they’ve seen on their vacation.

The Winchesters spend hours on bringing each other up to date, fortunately without Sam mentioning the embarrassing misunderstanding. But even thinking about the sheer possibility that the topic could come up by accident, Dean’s mental duct tape starts to peel off. It doesn’t help that Cas texts him on Friday that he met one of the bartenders from the Irish pub at an ATM. It doesn’t help that while Dean enjoys having his son over for the weekend, Ben tells him he would be going to the law firm Sam works at for his school’s project week. Of course, Dean’s first thought is: _Cas works there too._ Slowly but steadily, the dark, deep corner of his mind gains center stage and on the next Monday morning, the suppressed memory crashes into his brain like a freight train.

Dean does a bit of paperwork when a man comes in to pick up his truck. The guy wears a blue sweater, looking exactly like the one Cas has worn on their night out and Dean's fingers itch to touch, to _remember_. How he manages to keep his cool around the guy will probably stay a mystery forever, but once Dean slumps into his desk chair again, there’s nothing _cool_ about his nerves anymore. Because the kiss does mean something, if only that he wants to do it again. The realization that he wants to feel Cas’ lips on his own again, leaves Dean paralyzed for a good minute. No, it has nothing to do with Cas, or so he tells himself. It’s because he generally likes kissing. Yes, that’s it. He likes kissing, because kissing is great, and Cas is a phenomenal kisser, so it’s absolutely normal to want to kiss him again, right?

Suddenly, he’s not so sure anymore and because he needs the confirmation, because he needs to be told that everything is okay with him, he calls Charlie. She’s the only one he trusts right now not to make a mountain out of a molehill. But she neither confirms, nor does she disagree with his _theory_. All she really says is that it’s his decision to make. It’s his choice to see it as an accident without deeper meaning or… well, something else. _Definitely the first option_ , he thinks.

 

\----------

 

Castiel stares at the phone in front of him for more than ten minutes, yet he hasn’t mustered the courage to actually use it. He literally made a pro and cons list for calling Dean, deciding in the end that no other reason than the first one on the pro side truly matters: He _wants_ to see Dean again. Is it going to be at the border to torture to himself, being near the other man? Sure. Is it fair to keep his attraction a secret from Dean? No, but does he even have another choice with this man? Castiel learned in the nearly two weeks since they last saw each other, that he thinks about the mechanic a lot. Rather, _all the time_.

With the decision made to call Dean, Castiel solved the first problem but quickly had to face another one: an excuse to call him. Until now, they only ever met when either Sam arranged it, or when it was part of an apology from Dean. Castiel had a hard time coming up with something Dean would like to do, something that doesn’t scream ‘date’. He wandered his living room and stopped in front of one of the shelves with the DVD box of _Back to the Future_ at eye level.

Maybe it’s not right to use his sister’s memory in that way. To be near a guy that he knows, he’ll never be allowed to touch like his traitorous mind showed him in his sleep last night in high definition. But on the other hand, she probably would slap him if he backs down now.

Commanding all of his courage, Castiel takes his phone and texts Dean. He shortly decides against calling him, because the other man could be busy right now.

**< < Cas: Hello Dean. I want to ask if you have time on Saturday evening. I still have to watch the third Back to the Future movie and I have the DVDs at home, so I thought we could watch it here together. That means, if you want to.**

The waiting is the worst. After about ten minutes of not leaving his phone out of sight, Castiel decides to prepare his dinner. He’s chopping bell pepper when he hears his ringtone and drops everything to dash to his phone.

**> > Dean: Hey Cas. I’d love to come over on Saturday. My son is having his kids birthday party and I’m going to help a bit with the bbq ;) But I’m free in the evening and I’m already in Overland Park then, so it’s no problem to come over.**

Castiel grins from ear to ear. Huh, apparently, it’s never too late to catch up on having a high school crush. That Dean is willing to come over even after his son’s birthday party, gives him the security he needed. He feared the mechanic might have freaked out about their kiss and wouldn’t want to see him again.

**< < Cas: That’s great. I’m not sure if it’s appropriate as I don’t know Ben, but say Happy Birthday from me**

**> > Dean: I will :) Hey, if you don’t already have plans for dinner on Saturday, I could bring everything for us to make burgers. They’re not as good from the pan as from the brazier but I still make amazing patties.**

This weekend promises to get even better. Dean is going to cook for him?

**< < Cas: I’d love to taste what you cook, but are you sure this is okay? You can eat at the party.**

**> > Dean: I doubt I’ll have the time for eating. But it’s okay, I’ll bring everything I need to your apartment and we’ll chill on your couch with the movie and burgers.**

This really sounds like everything Castiel could hope for. Now he only has to control himself in front of Dean.

 

On Saturday, Cas spends some time on tidying up his apartment. He vacuums, dusts and changes the bedding in the guest room, just in case Dean might want to stay the night. Castiel even puts freshly washed sweatpants and a T-shirt – the one Dean wore last time – in the dresser. How much time he is able to spare for all these little arrangements shows him that his weekends have been quite uneventful until now. He completes his preparations with a short supply run to offer Dean more than tea and juice.

Around six, he gets a message from Dean. It’s a photo of a well-laid table.

**> > Dean: Anything you want? I already put aside everything we need for our own burgers, but if you want a bit from the salad or dessert, let me know, I’m about to pack up.**

**< < Cas: No, thank you. I already bought us something for dessert :)**

Castiel thinks of the apple pie in his fridge. He picked it up at a bakery today and it smells great, when it’s heated up it hopefully will taste amazing. He knows how much Dean loves pie.

**> > Dean: Okay, I’m curious to learn what it is ;)**

 

It only takes about thirty minutes until his doorbell rings. Cas opens it immediately, not that he has waited on his sofa for Dean to arrive, but… actually he has.

“Hey Cas,” Dean says cheerful when he comes up the stairs.

“Hello Dean,” Castiel answers and reaches for the basket in the other man’s hands, but Dean tells him to leave it and follows him into the kitchen. “How are you?”

Dean shrugs out of his jacket when he answers “Not bad. But I definitely have enough of such parties for a while.”

“Were the kids too much for you?” Castiel chuckles.

“No, the kids were great. Really. I mean, sure, my son is by far the coolest of them all, but I had a lot of fun with them. The parents were the ones who got on my nerves. Really, it’s a birthday party and one mom said she doesn’t want her daughter to eat more sweets than the cake because she’s used to only get goodies in reward.”

“It’s good to pay attention to a balanced diet for a child, but it can easily be overdone.”

“Just what I said to her… well, kind of,” Dean laughs. It’s bright and infectious and it warms Cas’ heart. _Great. Here we go_. Dean is not even in his apartment for five minutes and Cas already starts looking for all the charming attributes he can find on the other man.

To get his mind off those thoughts, he quickly says. “Shall we start preparing dinner?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.”

Castiel’s cooking confines to slicing tomatoes and onions, while Dean fries the meat and some bacon. They are ready to put their burgers together when Dean opens a small jar and holds it out for Cas to try. It’s mayonnaise but it’s also fruity and spicy and all in all well-rounded. It tastes amazing.

“Wow, that’s great, Dean. Where did you buy it?”

The other man blushes and it’s just not fair how beautiful it looks on him. “Ehm, I made it myself.”

 _Of course._ Castiel should’ve know that Dean made it himself. Because is there even a thing this man is not good at? Well, except his wording at times, but that’s tolerable. “It’s very delicious.”

They finish preparing their plates and sit down on the couch. Cas brings them some cans of coke and then he presses play on the remote to start the movie. He can’t help the moan that escapes him on the first bite from his burger, or the borderline filthy sounds he keeps making during the meal. This burger is one of the best he has ever tasted. But aside from this experience, nothing unexpected happens while watching the film. Yes, they sit close together, maybe closer than would be good for his wellbeing, but they have no other choice on his small couch. They don’t talk, but the silence isn’t uncomfortable and Castiel starts to feel at ease with Dean’s warm, breathing body next to him.

When the credits are on the screen, they stretch their legs and arms. “The first movie is definitely the best,” Castiel says. He’s still glad that the trilogy got him to spend more time with Dean. But now that it’s over, he fears that they won’t find other common interests and soon will go separate ways.

He stands up to get another bottle from the fridge and spots the forgotten pie. “Oh,” he says, turning to Dean, “I completely forgot that I bought a pie for us.”

Dean jumps at that and is right beside him in an instant. “What kind of pie?” he asks. His childlike joy makes Castiel chuckle. “It’s apple pie. I wanted to heat it up for us, but I understand if you’re still full with burgers.”

“Cas, one lesson about me: I can _always_ eat pie. And this looks amazing. You put it in the microwave and I get the forks?”

“No plates?”

Dean rummages in his drawers and holds up two forks. “Nope. With just the two of us, we’re going to eat out of the pan,” he grins.

That’s how they end up fighting over the best bits in the pan, giggling and talking with crumbles of pie crust falling out of their mouths. Castiel feels great. He has so much fun with Dean over such a silly and trivial activity. But with how close they sit, he can also feel his pulse quickening and it gets harder every minute to tear his eyes away from Dean’s lips.

“I have a food baby,” Dean says, patting his stomach, when they eventually let themselves fall into the sofa cushions.

“And we made quite the mess,” Castiel adds, looking over the crumbles everywhere.

They glance at each other and start to laugh. Castiel feels warm and secure and just… happy.

“I’m glad you said yes to come over tonight,” he says.

Dean looks at him quizzically. “Of course, I said yes. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I… I feared that you might feel uncomfortable. Because we kissed last time. I thought maybe you wouldn’t want to see me again.” It’s almost a whisper and he doesn’t look at Dean while he speaks, but he notices when the other man moves closer on the couch.

“That’s nonsense, Cas. Really,” he pauses for a moment, “actually, it’s the other way round. I thought that _you_ wouldn’t want to see me again.”

That is the single dumbest thing Castiel has heard in a long time. “Why? Have I done something that let you on that way? Because it’s not true, Dean. I like you and I’m always looking forwards to when we meet.”

“No, it’s nothing you have done… it’s more all the times _I_ fucked up and then I kissed you because _I_ was drunk and… I just thought you’re finally tired of me.”

Castiel wants nothing more than to take this man in his arms and shake the self-loathing off him. “I’m not tired of you,” he says with all certainty and looking Dean directly into his beautiful green eyes, “And I already said it. We were drunk, we just forget what happened and move on. It was just a kiss after all.”

Dean’s expression is unreadable for him. He seems to be… _disappointed_? No, that can’t be it. Castiel has never been an expert in reading other people’s mood, but he’s quite sure Dean doesn’t look relieved either. “Is something wrong?” he asks, because he would pay good money to know what’s on his mind right now.

Dean looks at him, jolted from a thought. “Huh? Oh, ehm… nothing. It’s nothing, Cas.”

“Whatever is bothering you, I hope you know you can tell me, right? I’d like to say I’m your friend by now, so I’ll listen if you have something on your mind. Whatever it is.”

The dark-blond man laughs barely audible and fixates his gaze on Castiel’s eyes. “It’s ridiculous, really… Just… it was kind of an awesome kiss.”

Now Castiel has to smile gently. Awesome is the right word, although Dean doesn’t know just how much Cas enjoyed it. Still, he blushes with pride at the thought that the other man liked it too, and that he even would admit it. “Yes, I wasn’t nearly drunk enough to forget that,” he winks. _Oh god, why did I do that?_

“Me neither,” Dean says, “You’re a great kisser.”

Castiel means to say “thank you”, he means to say “you’re too”, but he’s just too stunned, because what the hell is happening? How did they get from _let’s never talk about this again_ to _it’s a moment to remember_? When his view focuses on Dean’s face again, the other man’s eyes are fixed on his… lips? In a split-second, Castiel makes a decision, but it’s not his brain that lets him claim this plush, pink bottom lip between his own.

It’s too wet – even without tongue – and it’s uncoordinated, but it’s so, so good. He’s not sure how much time passes, but when his brain boots up again, he stops abruptly, resting his hands on Dean’s chest. The mechanic’s expression reflects his own emotional chaos between arousal and shock perfectly.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Dean, I don’t know why- ” he starts but gets interrupted by Dean.

“Don’t apologize Cas, please…” His voice is hoarse and a little bit trembling. It shouldn’t be quickening his pulse, but it does. “… please don’t stop.”

His heart skips a beat. Morally, Castiel should ask Dean if he’s sure, but he’s afraid the man might change his mind. Dean isn’t into men, after all, and this is probably the only chance he’ll ever get to indulge in his fantasy. But is it worth to risk their growing friendship over?

He doesn’t get to ponder, he doesn’t get to decide, because suddenly, his lips are on Dean’s again and he wasn’t the one to initiate it. And from the start, it’s less hesitant and more physical, with their hands roaming over arms and backs. Castiel grasps into Dean’s strong shoulder while his other hand plays with the short strands of hair in the taller man’s neck. Dean shudders and moans and Castiel uses it to explore his mouth. His tongue chases every inch of Dean, the lingering taste of apple pie just as sweet and prominent as what can only be described with _Dean_.

Somehow, the timid and chaste kisses from before turn into a full on make out session and Castiel finds himself leaning into Dean more and more until they are lying, instead of sitting, on the couch. It’s not very comfortable, but really, who cares? Castiel certainly doesn’t care, because he has this beautiful, gentle man under him, making all those filthy noises. It’s amazing, much better than his imagination managed to create two nights ago.

But all of a sudden, there is nothing under him but the padding of his sofa, because Dean jumps up and stands in the middle of the room like a deer in the headlights. Castiel is confused and tries to understand what changed the mood so abruptly. Dean looks disheveled, his lips swollen and deep red from being sucked on, his hair stands up in every direction and his pupils are wide blown. But in addition to what Castiel hopes is arousal, his expression also shows bewilderment.

He opens his mouth to speak, to ask Dean what is wrong, but the taller man is quicker. “I… I have to go. Ehm, it was a great evening, but I need to go… Sorry, Cas.”

He is out of the door faster than Castiel can react, so the lawyer is left alone in his apartment. Confused and with fading arousal, he lets his head fall onto the cushion and has no other thought than _Shit_.

 

\----------

 

This time, Dean isn’t as lucky to fall asleep immediately. After he stormed out of Cas’ apartment and until way after midnight, he agonizes over the events of the evening. They kissed again, and Dean was fine with it, he liked it, very much so. No drunken decision, no _I wonder what it feels like_ , just an insanely hot make out session. Because that’s what it was. Not a curious kiss, but hands roaming, open mouth exploring, and it felt amazing. That was, until Cas’ obvious erection was pressing into his leg. For a split second a thought was running through his mind and its pure existence had him jump away from Cas. The feeling of another man's dick, and the inevitable thought that _he_ was causing this erection, was so new and strange that he just couldn't handle it. He is exhausted from asking himself what this all means, when he finally falls asleep.

The next morning, Dean wakes up to his phone buzzing on the night stand. The light from the screen blinds him at first, so it takes a moment until the message stops to blur.

**> > Cas: Good morning, Dean. I hope you slept well. Please tell me what I did wrong last night. Did I misread the signals? If so, I’m very sorry and I promise it won’t happen again. I hope I don’t get ahead of myself, but I don’t want to lose our friendship over this.**

No, Cas did nothing wrong, he didn’t misread the signals. And that’s the crucial point, right? Because Dean was far beyond caring at this point, he just _wanted_. It freaked him out, it still does, so he doesn’t answer. Everything he could write back to put it right would mean an admission he just can’t make. He can’t.

 

Dean spends the evening at his mom’s house with Mick, Sam and Eileen. His brother seems to notice that something is bothering him but doesn’t bring it up, either because of the others in the room, or because Dean tries damn hard to be cheerful.

On Monday, he is still restless and edgy throughout the day and pitches his finger more than once while working on a car, resulting in him cursing most of the time. Jo and Benny kick him out of the garage shortly after noon and order him to just take the rest of the day off, so he is again walking imprints on the rug in his living room. Really, he’s a grown man and how every single meeting with Cas throws him off track can’t be right. Overthinking the individual encounters with the lawyer get him worked up and on the edge of a panic attack. Or so he thinks, because how the hell would he know?

Out of desperation, he grabs his phone and calls Charlie. He feels bad for again bothering her with his stupid problems, but he really needs to get this out.

“Hey Dean,” she chirps when answering the phone, “How can I help you?”

“I need you to listen, and probably to kick my ass for overthinking things again.”

“So, it’s about Cas.” She doesn’t even say it as a question.

Dean sighs. “Yes, it is. I was at his apartment on Saturday, for burgers and TV.”

Charlie doesn’t say anything, of course she knows this wasn’t the point he aimed at, so he goes on. “Long story short, we kissed.”

“So?”

“What do you mean ‘so?’. I had not a single drop of alcohol in my blood. And it wasn’t just kissing, no, it was full on making out with tongue and everything. I’m sure I even had my hands fisted in his hair for a while.”

“And did you like it?” She is still calm and casual, which freaks Dean out.

“That’s all you gotta ask?”

Charlie chuckles. “Of course, Dean. It’s the most important thing here.”

Dean takes a deep breath. He knows, with his answer he’ll open Pandora’s box. “I liked it. A lot. It was fucking amazing, breathtaking and all.”

“And now you’re worked up about the fact that you liked kissing a guy?” Her matter-of-factly way of speaking drives him up the wall. Doesn’t she see that this is a huge thing for him?

“It’s not even the fact that I liked the kiss, Charlie. I kinda was fine with it, you know, because it’s just kissing, and Cas is an amazing kisser, so what’s not to like there? But then his dick was pressing in my thigh and I lost it. I jumped up and was out of the building in seconds.”

“Yeah, would a guy’s dick press anywhere into _my_ body, I would freak out, too,” she jokes.

That’s not helping him at all. “Charlie, can you please be serious about this for once. I'm kinda going crazy over here.”

She huffs and then is silent, but only for a moment. “You really want me to be serious? Because I kinda had the feeling that you don’t _want_ to hear the truth. You joke and suppress and do everything to make it sound casual, but it’s not. It’s not casual when you keep thinking about it for weeks. You like kissing that guy, you like being near him and even though you wouldn't admit it yourself, it's not just because you simply like kissing and touching people in general. I'm sorry to break it to you, but you're attracted to Cas. Keep your excuses to yourself, because it's not a one-time-curiosity-thing if you keep thinking about it.”

Dean has to sit down. She is right. _Why is she always right?_ Or rather _Why does he always need her to fucking tell him?_ Fortunately, Charlie isn’t finished yet, because Dean wouldn’t know what to say anyway.

“Look, I’m not saying you’re gone for that guy in a cheesy, romantic way, but it’s obvious that you have the hots for him in a physical way. I know it must be scary, I know it must be overwhelming, but it's not something to lose your mind over. Act on it, or don't act on it, but please, do me a favor and admit it.”

“You’re right,” he finally says. He waits for his head to explode, for the sky to crash down or any other sign that would accompany this moment perfectly, but nothing happens. And isn’t that funny? He just admitted that he likes a guy, that he wants to kiss him and do whatever else with him, and the world doesn’t end. He’s still himself.

“I owe you big time, you know that, right?” He’s not sure he can ever make up for bothering her with his stupidity.

“Oh, I know.” Dean can practically _hear_ her smirk. “I could use a new handmaiden at Moondoor.”

“A what at what?” It’s like she’s speaking Chinese to him.

“Never mind, well, for now,” she laughs, “I guess you have something much more important to do now.”

“Yeah. Thank you, Charlie.”

“You’re welcome. Maybe I should start holding consultation-hours.”

It’s amazing how selfless and cheerful she is all the time. Dean can be really glad to have her. They say their goodbye and end the call, and Dean is back alone with his thoughts. He has to do something, even if only to apologize to Cas – and that’s really becoming a running gag.

He gets another message from Cas that evening and for a moment, he muses if he should call him, but that just isn’t how Dean wants to do it.

**> > Cas: Hello Dean. I’m sorry if I’m bothering, but you didn’t text me back and I want to make sure you’re alright. If you don’t want me to text you anymore, I’m sad but I’ll understand. You just have to tell me.**

**< < Dean: Cas, I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to feel bad. And of course I still want you to text me. I have to apologize… again… but I don’t want to do it on the phone. Are you free anytime this week? I have Ben on the weekend, but I can schedule my work however needed. And please, you don’t have to apologize at all, you have done nothing wrong!**

Damn, he is even worse at wording when writing. But hopefully, Cas will understand. And hopefully, he’ll give him another chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you had a nice weekend (restful or entertaining) and wish you a good start into the new week.  
> If you want, tell me what you think about the chapter in the comments, or leave kudos (no pressure <3)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helau and Alaaf everybody out there. I'm back with a new chapter on time with the beginning of the carnival season :)  
> I'm pretty nervous about this one (it's a loooong chapter btw), because I've never written smut before... please have mercy with me. I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> detailed warning in the end-notes (I promised to do that)

**> > Dean: Cas, I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to feel bad. And of course I still want you to text me. I have to apologize… again… but I don’t want to do it on the phone. Are you free anytime this week? I have Ben on the weekend, but I can schedule my work however needed. And please, you don’t have to apologize at all, you have done nothing wrong!**

Castiel stares at the text message for a solid minute and rereads it more than once. He sighs in relief, over the fact that Dean texted back, but also over the content of the message. He still feels a bit of doubt and uncertainty nagging at his mind that Dean might only want to ditch him in person – or whatever, considering they’re not a couple. But even if this could be the outcome of their talk, Castiel needs to know it. Not knowing where they stand in their relationship – friendly or _more-than-friendly_ – strains his nerves in a way he is not used to, and he rather wants to get ditched now than to agonize over possibilities for days. Although, to be completely honest, he still hopes to not get ditched at all.

Unfortunately, his current case will need a lot of attention in the next few days, and whether he’ll be able to take the time to meet up with Dean is not sure.

 **< < Cas: Okay. I don’t know when I’ll have time yet, but I’ll write you again as soon as I know**.

Dean’s answer comes only seconds after he hits send.

**> > Dean: Great! Yeah, I know you’re probably busy. Whenever is okay for you, works for me too. I can come to your apartment, just let me know.**

Castiel gets back to work because he really has a lot to do, but in the late afternoon it gets harder and harder to even pretend to go through these files. He started the last paragraph of a police report for the fourth time now and still has no clue what exactly he’s reading. But he’s not tired, or hungry or exhausted, he’s simply miles away with his thoughts. And Castiel definitely won’t let his pining over Dean compromise his work, so he shuts down his computer, grabs his coat and keys and is in his car and on the way to Lawrence in minutes. Time to get this cleared up once and for all.

He doesn’t have Dean’s address, but the other man is hopefully still at work and with the help of Google, it’s no problem at all to find Dean’s shop. He turns onto the gravel driveway and takes a moment to deeply breath in and out. This could easily end up being a pretty bad day, or – this cute little thing called hope still hasn’t left him – a pretty amazing day. Castiel’s nerves eventually catch up with him and his earlier bravery and will to get this done slowly fades away. No, he can do it, he _has_ to do it, for his own sanity.

There is no one behind the counter when he enters the building, so he rings the little bell and looks around while he waits. It’s really odd how it feels special to be at Dean’s workplace when the other man has been in his office twice already. It kind of feels like these walls and the chairs and everything could give a little piece of information about the man who fascinates Castiel so immensely. Knowing about Dean’s sentimentality with objects, the posters on the walls and the little car models here and there have a history.

“Hey, how can I help you?”

Castiel turns around to face the man who just spoke. He’s tall and has a beard and smiles gently. He can easily picture Dean and this man working side by side, joking and listening to music.

“Oh, hello. I was looking for Dean,” he says.

“Sorry man, the boss has already gone home,” the man answers. He looks out of the window, probably to see Castiel’s car standing there. “But I’m quite good with cars too, you know.”

Of course it’s Castiel’s luck that Dean went home early today. “Oh, yes, I don’t doubt that, but it’s nothing wrong with my car. I need to speak with Dean about something private.”

“Huh, you a friend of Dean?”

“Yes. My name is Castiel, I work together with his brother. Unfortunately, I don’t have his address, so I came here.”

The other man eyes him for a moment, then pulls off a post-it from the desk. “I’ll write it down for you.”

“Thank you…,” Castiel says, leaving the sentence open.

“It’s Benny,” the man completes.

“Thank you, Benny. I really appreciate it.”

With Dean’s address scribbled on the piece of paper, Castiel gets in his car again and types the street into his GPS. It’s only a few minutes away and for a second time that day, he tries to pull himself together and calm his nerves with deep breathing. It’s not a huge apartment complex, just a few stories, so it’s not hard to find Dean’s doorbell nameplate. A buzzing sound unlocks the front door and he follows up the stairway until he sees Dean’s face lit by his open apartment door.

“Cas?” he asks in bewilderment.

“Hello Dean,” Castiel answers. Maybe he should’ve called before he made his way to Lawrence, to inform Dean about his arrival, but now it’s too late anyway.

“What are you doing here?” Dean asks when Castiel stands fully in front of him.

“I wasn’t sure I’d be able to have time over the next few days, so I thought I’d come over and we could talk now.” It really sounded like a good plan to Castiel, but now he’s not so sure anymore.

“Yeah, sure.” It’s all Dean answers as he stares at him with an unreadable expression. Castiel loses himself in the other man’s eyes for a moment but remembers they are still standing on the doorstep, so he clears his throat. “Are you going to let me in?”

“Huh?” Dean seems to be jolted from a thought. “Oh, yes, sorry.” He steps to the side to let Castiel enter the apartment. It’s small, but it has everything an apartment truly needs and Castiel likes it.

He settles on the sofa while Dean takes the armchair to his right. They both don’t say a single word, just stare into the room without making eye-contact, and it’s more than awkward. Castiel muses if he should start, if Dean might expect him to do the conversation because he came all the way to Lawrence. But he rather hoped that once he’d be face to face with Dean, the other man would start spilling what’s on his mind. He clears his throat again, unconsciously, but it has the effect that Dean looks over to him.

“Sorry, Cas, I’m a terrible host. You want a coffee? Or tea? I think there is still some of Sam’s stuff in a cabinet, although I have no idea since when, so it’s probably not the best choice…” he jumps from his seat.

“Coffee is fine, thank you,” Castiel answers. At least it will keep his hands and mouth busy.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.”

With Dean in the kitchen, Castiel sighs and runs his hands through his hair. _Why does this have to be so difficult?_ It takes a few minutes, but when Dean returns and hands him a cup, he clutches to it like it’s a lifebelt. A very hot lifebelt. They both sip from their drinks like they don’t care about the boiling liquid. Awkward isn’t even the right word anymore to describe the situation.

“So,” Dean says eventually, breaking the silence, “You came all the way to Lawrence, I guess we should… talk.”

“Yes.” It’s all Castiel says.

“Look, I have to admit I didn’t expect to have this conversation today, but I guess it’s better we don’t waste any time. I’d probably only talk myself to insanity otherwise.”

Castiel puts his cup down and looks Dean in the eyes for the first time since he entered the apartment. “I’m sorry, Dean. I should have called before I just came over.”

“No, it’s okay, I don’t mind. But how do you even know…”

“I was at your shop first. Benny gave me the address.”

“Oh, okay.” Dean fidgets with the hem of his shirt before he adds “Well, I guess it’s my turn to apologize again. It was really shitty to just run out on you on Saturday.”

By now, Castiel hates the apologetic, guilty expression on the other man’s face. Yes, he did a lot of stupid things in the past, but he always looks like he brought ruin on earth. “Dean, I understand that you felt uncomfortable. And I also kinda know by now that you have the impulse to get away as far as possible then. I just wished I would know what exactly drove you up the wall on Saturday. I thought… well, it seemed to me like you were okay with what we were doing.” And it’s true, with the way Dean kissed him back, Castiel had assumed they both enjoyed it equally. Otherwise, he would have never, really _never_ , let himself go into the kissing like he did.

“I was, Cas, really. In fact, I _am_ okay with it.”

Wait… did Castiel hear that right? Dean didn’t freak out because of their kissing? But.. “Then why… ?”

Dean breathes in and looks into his lap. “The kissing was amazing, but I kinda snapped when -” The rest is too low to be audible for Castiel, but he doesn’t have to ask, Dean repeats himself after just looking at him. “Ehm, I could feel your _excitement_ pressing into my thigh.”

 _Oh…_ Castiel doesn’t only blush, he goes beet red. He knew that a lot of blood rushed southwards on that evening, but he didn’t know that it was this obvious and that it freaked Dean out. “I’m sorry, I -” he stops because he has no clue how to apologize for this.

“No, Cas, please don’t apologize. It’s not like you can control it.”

Castiel snorts a laugh. “No, not really.” _Especially around you_ , he thinks but doesn’t add. That would go way too far.

“The thing is…” Dean says, then pauses to sigh and run his hands over his face. He really looks nervous. “Okay, here we go… the thing is, I got excited too. And it took me two days to realize, to _accept_ , that it’s okay. I like you Cas, and you’re smoking hot. And that make out session? Awesome!” He blushes again. “I guess you could say I’m attracted to you.”

Castiel’s mouth opens and closes again. He probably looks like a fish right now, but his brain only slowly processes what he just heard. “You are attracted to me… and you are fine with it? No breakdown?”

Dean laughs, “I think I already had a few of those over the past weeks, but I’m fine now. Sort of. It’s confusing, yes, but I don’t feel _weird_. This,” he points between himself and Castiel, “doesn’t feel weird.”

They look at each other for a long moment while Castiel sorts his thoughts and admires the man in front of him. They have both shifted to the edge of their seats and sit with their knees touching.

“Dean,” he breaks the silence after a while, “I guess you can work out for yourself that I’m attracted to you too. From the start, actually.”

“Yeah, okay,” Dean swallows.

“What do you want this to mean for us now?” That’s the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question, right?

The dark-blond man’s eyes widen. “Well, I… I was hoping we could maybe just go with it? I can imagine you have a fair amount of experience,” he takes a sip from his cup and clears his throat, “and maybe, that means if you’re okay with it, you could show me some stuff? So I can see what I like and so on.”

Dean looks at him expectantly, waiting for a reaction, but to Castiel it also seems like the other man wants to say more, so he lets him take his time.

“I mean, I still want to be your friend and just hang out and watch a movie or go out for burgers and beer. Because I like you, I like being your friend, but I don’t think I can really just forget this attraction-thing. And to be honest, I don’t want to. So… If this sounds like an option to you, we could try it.”

Well, it definitely sounds like an option to Castiel. It would be great to help Dean explore whatever he likes, it even thrills him. And still hanging out and being friends? Nothing against that, either. But… there’s this tiny little thought nagging at him, a voice telling him that he doesn’t feel that casual about Dean. He shoves it back, the topic of _dating_ will sure as rain scare Dean away. So, a friends-with-benefit situation it is.

“That’s fine with me. Really, Dean, I’d like to. And we’ll go at your pace, whenever you feel uncomfortable, just stop me. You’re having the reins here.”

Dean’s sigh is audible, and the mood immediately shifts. They sit even closer, Castiel is only half on the couch by now, one knee in between Dean’s. He’s allowed to touch Dean now, so he bends forward to close the remaining distance and kiss him. Just a soft, close-mouthed kiss, anything more would be highly uncomfortable in their position. But the thing with Dean is – just like on Saturday – when you show him even a little bit of affection, it’s like pressing a button, starting an engine. The taller man doesn’t hesitate and is on the couch right next to Castiel in an instant. He angles them properly and grabs his hair and lower back to pull him even closer. When Castiel feels Dean tracing his bottom lip with his tongue, he opens his mouth hungrily to let the other man explore it. Their tongues slide together and it’s so good. They lie on the couch, much to Castiel’s joy, with him on his back. Dean starts to trace further paths with his mouth, nibbling at his jaw, leaving wet open-mouthed kisses on his throat. He sucks at this point right behind his ear and Castiel nearly loses it. _Oh, Lord._ This guy definitely knows what he’s doing.

Dean moans when Castiel lets his hands glide under the man’s shirt and over the hot skin of his body. It’s music to his ears and he does everything to force it out as much as possible. Somewhere in the haze of mouths and hands and bodies, Castiel’s jacket and tie get lost, probably in a pile on the floor, but he doesn’t really care. And then Dean presses more of his weight on him, which causes just that little bit of friction, and it drives Castiel crazy. But Dean tenses for a moment and to make sure the other man isn’t uncomfortable, Castiel breaks the kiss.

“Dean, it's okay. We can stop, if you want,” he says.

Dean looks beautiful like this. His lips are swollen, his pupils blown wide and his hair ruffled. He breathes heavily when he speaks. “That's the thing, Cas, I don't want to stop.” They sit up again so Dean doesn’t have to support his full weight on his arms. “I'm just a little bit nervous. Usually this is exactly my territory, but with a man I feel like fifteen again, when Rhonda Hurley put her tongue in my mouth and I didn't have any clue what to do with it. I better warn you, I probably need to get used to new sensations, but it doesn’t mean that I don’t like it.”

Castiel smiles gently when he says “I guess I'm going to be the proactive part then. But Dean, like I said, we're going at your pace. Whatever you want to do, we can talk about, but we don’t have to do anything, okay?”

Dean sighs again but returns the smile. “Yeah, okay. Thanks Cas. I don't think I'm ready for more than what we’re doing here yet.”

“It's alright, Dean, really. No pressure,” he brushes his thumb over Dean's cheekbone, “may I kiss you again? No dry-humping, I promise.”

Dean laughs and nods, and Castiel leans in again to press their lips together. They remain in a seating position and all in all it’s more gentle and sweet, less urgent, but still so wonderful and fulfilling.

Castiel stays for dinner and they talk without anything making it weird or awkward. He loves this and is already happy that he took the risk to drive to Lawrence that day. On his way back home and when he falls sleepily in his bed, he has a huge grin on his face and can’t wait to see Dean again.

 

\----------

 

Dean expects a huge identity crisis when he wakes up being in some sort of relationship with Cas. He hates the term _friends-with-benefits_ , but they’re also not really a couple, so labeling what happened yesterday is kind of difficult. The crisis, however, stays away. It’s not like Cas would want them to kiss out on the streets, right? Behind closed doors, Dean can act out on his fantasies in secureness, and oh, does he have fantasies. With Cas under him on the couch it’s been very hard not to… well, _get hard_ , and the only thing even better than this is probably when the other man takes control. Dean is not new to being manhandled, he always loved it when a girl took over the reins, but with Cas it’s something completely different. This guy could actually pin him down – that’s for sure with how muscular he felt under his hands – and Dean wouldn’t need to only _imagine_ that he’s trapped. _Preferably between these strong thighs_.

This thought, and the memory of the evening before, fuels his semi from when he woke up and he glances over to the clock on his nightstand. Fortunately, he has enough time for a long shower this morning, one of the many plus points of owning his shop. Of course, he doesn’t generally abuse his flexible schedules for some sexy alone time, but today it comes in handy. He drops his T-shirt and boxer briefs in the bedroom and walks stark naked into the bathroom. With the water turned to a pleasant temperature, he steps into the stall and lets the warmth brush over his body. He sighs, enjoying the consistent pressure on his neck and shoulders and being engulfed in the steamy air around him. His erection hangs heavily between his legs, calling for attention, but Dean hesitates to take himself in hand. The fantasy of a certain blue-eyed man being here with him is at the ready, there is no going back anymore, but it still feels like the next step to Dean. It’s one thing to be turned on by Cas, but to use him to get off feels like… _more_.

Once the other man’s name crosses his mind, though, the full lips, tousled hair and piercing blue eyes add to the image immediately and Dean tosses any form of hesitation out of the window. Finally, his hand offers much needed friction and he groans at the feeling. He starts off slowly, no need to get this over quickly, and watches the foreskin envelop the head and then reveal it on every stroke. Dean closes his eyes, fully indulging in the fantasy. He can hear Cas’ gravelly voice whisper his name, he can see these puffy lips kiss along his body, going down and down until they ultimately close around the tip of his cock. Dean exhales shakily and braces his head on the tiles. He slowly lets his left hand roam over his chest, pinching a nipple, then passing his throbbing cock to fondle his balls. Already drawn up tight, he knows he’s heading for the end, so he speeds up his strokes, all the while picturing Cas sucking him, fondling him and looking him directly in the eyes. He comes with Cas’ name on his lips, his sight full of white stars for a second. Yep, he’s totally attracted to that guy.

 

Dean doesn’t see Cas again over the next week as they’re both busy with work, but one night, he casually texts the lawyer about his day – out of pure boredom – and it quickly becomes a habit between the two of them to send messages forth and back before hitting the sack. He enjoys another few long showers and lets his mind wander, pondering things he wants to try with Cas in the future. Some ideas he shoves back, too embarrassed to even have them, but others are safe enough to picture.

They talk on the phone when they are less loaded with work and agree on joining Sam and Eileen for dinner in the Roadhouse. Dean is nervous, unsure how to ask Cas to keep their situation just between them, but the other man seems to sense his concern and reassures him.

“Dean, this is no one’s business but ours. Of course I won’t tell Sam or anybody else. Like you said, we can still be friends and hang out.”

Dean sighs, glad that Cas understands him. “Thanks, Cas. I… Can I still come over to your place afterwards?” He blushes, afraid to come over too needy or to sound like he forces himself on Cas.

But the other man just chuckles. “I’d like that. But won’t your brother assume that you stay with him and Eileen overnight?”

That’s another point Dean isn’t one-hundred percent comfortable with. “Probably. I hate to lie to Sam, but I’ll tell him that I’m going home that night. I can’t tell him I’m staying with you, he would ask questions and I’m not at all ready to answer them. I don’t even know what this all means to _me_ yet, to which extent this attraction to men goes… But fortunately, I have you to guide me. Thanks, by the way.”

There is a moment of silence when Cas doesn’t reply immediately, and Dean already wonders if he’s done something wrong again.

“You’re welcome, Dean. It’s not like I wouldn’t benefit.”

 

The evening with Sam and Eileen is amazing, they laugh a lot and Cas gets on well with her. But it’s also harder than he thought to keep it together. Like when they meet in the parking lot and Dean feels the urge to kiss Cas, but remembers the other two people standing with them just in time and changes to an awkward hug. Or like when Dean sits across from Cas and watches the man’s smiles and laughs the whole evening without being allowed to just grab his hands on the table. It’s strange enough that he _wants_ to hold hands. Castiel, that little shit, gives him even more of a hard time when he – totally on purpose – moans around his burger and then states that “Dean’s tastes even better”. Dean chokes on his drink because he didn’t hear the _‘s_ after his name at first. But at no point does he regret that Cas and he aren’t alone. If it was up to him, this evening would be one of many to follow.

After eating, drinking and paying, Dean and Cas say goodnight to Sam and Eileen and wait until their car is out of view before they get into their own cars to drive to Cas’ apartment. With all the thoughts and ideas Dean has had over the evening, it is more than surprising that they awkwardly settle on the couch once they enter the apartment. But with the decision to meet here after dinner also comes some sort of expectation that something special is going to happen, and the pressure of this makes Dean nervous. He wants to kiss Cas, he wants to touch him and maybe do some other stuff, but he doesn’t know how to ask for it. For the first time in years, he’s the less experienced one.

“You want something to drink? Maybe a beer?” Cas asks.

“Yeah, sure.” It’s not like he needs to give himself liquid courage, but it won’t do any harm.

Cas brings them each a bottle and sits down next to him, a little bit closer than before.

“Dean, I don’t want you to think we need to defile my couch every time we’re alone. This doesn’t have to be weird or uncomfortable. I mean the last time, we were just hanging out, eating pie, when we started kissing. We don’t need to force it now.”

Dean sighs. _He can read my mind_   “You’re right, sorry, Cas. I still need a moment sometimes to realize that I’m _allowed_ to kiss you and whatever.”

Cas chuckles. “Unfortunately, I don’t have any pie today. And I don’t think there’s any Dr. Sexy episodes on TV right now. So maybe…” he pauses to look around his living room and tilts his head to the side in this adorable way, “I don’t know… maybe you’d like to play a game?”

Dean has to laugh at that. “Really, Cas? Playing doctor is your way of taking it slow?” he winks.

“I meant games as in BOARD games, Dean.” He shakes his head but smiles. It’s one of those timid, barely visible smiles and Dean is already a sucker for it.

Castiel stands up and goes over to the cupboard under the TV. He literally takes out a stack of board games and puts them on the coffee table. This is the weirdest foreplay he ever had, but seeing the joy on Cas face has Dean taking the first box in an instant. It’s _Monopoly_.

“No, that takes too long.”

Cas takes the next one. “Then maybe Scrabble?”

“No, I never play that with Sammy, and I definitely won’t play it with you! I probably wouldn’t even be able to identify whether the words you’re placing are even English.” It’s no fun at all to play this with Sam and Eileen agrees with him.

“Well, these are the only other one’s I have,” Cas points to the remaining two boxes on the table.

The first one is _Sorry_ , which sounds like a joke to Dean, so he goes for _Clue._

It’s not really how he pictured their after-dinner-activity to take place, but Dean has to admit that he doesn’t care that much about _how_ he spends his time with Cas. And playing board games on a two-seater feels unbelievable right in this moment. In the end, he wins and throws his arms up triumphantly.

“Well, too bad we didn’t bet on anything,” he laughs.

“You’re pretty good in this game,” Cas says approvingly.

“Hell yes. I would’ve made an awesome detective, don’t you think?”

This time, it’s Cas who laughs. It’s beautiful, his whole face lighting up with it. “I bet you wanted to become one as a kid.”

“No, actually I wanted to be a firefighter,” Dean answers, shrugging. He thinks a moment before he adds, “Our house caught fire when I was a kid. I think I was four, Sam only a baby. There’s been a short circuit and the nursery went up in flames. My dad got me and Sam out, but my mom was still in the house. I remember a firefighter running into the building and saving her. After that, I always wanted to be one too, so that maybe one day, I could save someone else’s mom.”

Cas looks at him with awe. It makes Dean uneasy, he hates this sort of attention, so he quickly averts his eyes.

“Why didn’t you become one?” Cas asks.

“That’s a long, sad story for another day. But short version: I needed money,” he says, but when he sees Cas’ sympathetic expression he quickly adds, “It’s not like I hate my job. I really came to love it. And I think it’s maybe better this way. I wouldn’t want my wife or kids to worry about my safety whenever I’m at work. Well, if I had them.”

It’s quiet between them for a moment and Dean is sure Cas still looks at him like he’s something special.

“You’re a great man, Dean Winchester, you know that?” Cas says eventually, but Dean doesn’t answer. He’s never been good at taking compliments. Instead, Cas goes on, probably feeling that Dean is uncomfortable. “But it’s a shame about the uniform. You would’ve looked smoking hot in one of those.”

Dean looks up at that, seeing that Cas gives him a look that’s almost seductive, and he can practically feel the mood shift between them. “Yeah?” he says, grinning and leaning in closer to the other man’s face. This is how it should’ve been the whole time. The urge to touch, to _feel_ , more prominent than the fear of making a mistake. And because it’s a settled thing between them now, he has no hesitation anymore, nothing nagging at the back of his mind, when he closes the distance and presses his lips on Cas’.

Not surprised by the movement, Castiel grabs the front of Dean’s shirt and pulls him in close while fervently kissing back. Dean melts at the other man’s touch and wraps his arms around him when he’s being turned until his back presses fully into the backrest of the couch, Cas a consistent weight against his chest. He nibbles and licks at Cas’ bottom lip until the man groans, opening his mouth so Dean can explore it to its fullest. With his mouth occupied, he doesn’t register Cas straddling him until their pelvises come in contact and it jolts a flash of lust through Dean like electricity. Without the barrier of the other man’s dick feeling weird against him, Dean gains more confidence and gropes at Cas’ ass, kneading the strong muscles there. It arouses another moan from Cas, who pulls at the short strands of hair in Dean’s neck – causing a very pleasurable sort of pain – so he has better access to his throat. _Hopefully, there will be marks_.

He thrusts up with his hips while Cas thrusts down, and Dean knows that this time, he won’t be able to slow down, to go back to leisurely making out. But he also doesn’t want to come in his pants, so he breaks the kiss. The view he gets is mesmerizing, Cas looking all sorts of disheveled, with swollen lips and his eyes wide in a daze. Dean wants to say something, but the words get stuck in his throat. When they both calmed their breath, Castiel speaks up first.

“Dean…” _Oh god…_ his voice is even more gravelly than usual, and it goes directly to Dean’s crotch. “Dean, can I?”

Dean doesn’t need to hear what Cas is asking for, because the other man’s finger tracing the bulge in his jeans is enough of an explanation. He nods, not trusting his voice in this moment.

Cas stands up from his lap and turns Dean on the couch, so he has the armrest in his back, then settles between his legs again, all the while keeping eye contact. For Dean, it’s happening in slow motion, and he holds his breath, when Cas leans in to kiss him while opening his fly.

“I’m not going to blow you. You see, I’m very strict about safer sex, not that I’d assume you’re not clean, but still. And I’m impatient to see you while you come, so I don’t fetch the condoms from my bedroom. I hope you’re okay with my hand for now.”

Dean can do nothing but nod and involuntarily whimper. In his current state, he would take everything Cas offers him, no matter what. He sounds too sexy to be legal, talking like this. Cas smirks and leans in to nibble at his jaw when he slides a hand down Dean’s boxer briefs to free his erection. Dean closes his eyes, the sight of Cas’ hand touching him there in addition to the feeling of a strong grip proves to be too much. Cas goes agonizingly slow with him, pushing up his shirt to pinch a nipple – which results in an embarrassingly high-pitched moan – and only ghosting strokes. The tension in Dean’s groin builds up and up without enough relief.

“Open your eyes, Dean,” Cas whispers in his ear. The other man’s breath makes him shudder, but he complies. Blue eyes slowly back away and the full image of Cas comes into view. Dean’s breath hitches at the sight and Cas seems to have enough of teasing and grips stronger, speeding up his strokes with amazing skill. Dean feels fingers softly kneading his balls and then pressing just under them, causing him to gasp. His orgasm hitting him like a freight train is no surprise and he throws his head back when it happens. Catching his breath and slowly focusing on his surroundings again, he sits up and looks at Cas still kneeling between his spread legs.

“You look beautiful,” the dark-haired man says.

Dean has to look away, blushing if this is even possible with his heated post-orgasm body. Looking down at himself, he says, “I’m a mess. Well, not the best decision to wear a black shirt today.”

“Yes, it was unmindful of me. We should have got the clothes out of the way, but I was a bit… distracted,” Castiel answers, still breathing heavily. It’s the first time Dean fully takes in the other man’s state. He must be sporting some heavy blue balls, his crotch still trapped behind denim. Dean really wants to assist with it. Like, he has a fucking urge to get a hand in those pants.

“I..,” he starts, “I can help you with this.” He can’t say it, but Castiel gets it anyway with how he points at his groin.

“Oh. Ehm, thanks, but Dean, you don’t have to. Really, don’t feel obliged to reciprocate everything I do.”

“I don’t feel obliged, Cas. I _want_ to help with it. That means, if you like.” _Damn, why always this nervousness?_

Cas stares at him for a moment as if he’s trying to figure out if Dean is being honest. “Okay,” he says eventually. "But let me get a washcloth first. And you can put your clothes in my washer later, then you have them clean by tomorrow.”

He stands up and comes back with a warm washcloth, cleaning Dean up very gently, which kind of warmth his heart. Castiel throws it on the floor and lays another washcloth on the coffee table before he strips his shirt off and starts opening his fly.

“Wait,” Dean says, grabbing the other man’s hand, “Let me do it.”

Cas pull his hands away from his jeans and lies down on the couch in the same position Dean has been just minutes before. _Okay, let’s get this started_.

Dean pops the button of Cas’ jeans open and pulls down the zipper, revealing dark blue boxer briefs under it. He doesn’t take any risk of stains, so he takes off the pants completely and hesitates only a second before tossing the underwear too. Cas’ erection has flagged a bit with their short intermission, but Dean knows this doesn’t diminish the man’s need to get off. The first tentative grip around Cas’ dick feels weird. Not as in _bad_ -weird, but it feels unfamiliar to not have the sensation of the effect of rubbing a dick. It’s still hot and pulsing and Dean gets used to the feeling quickly. He mimics the moves he likes to do to himself and what Cas did earlier, resulting in stroking a rock-hard cock in no time. He takes a moment to admire Cas like this. He has a pretty dick – if a penis can be called pretty in any way – longer than his own, if maybe not of the same girth. But truly mesmerizing is Cas’ face. His expression when Dean tightens his grip and speeds up the strokes is a sight to remember and Dean just has to kiss him. He cups the other man’s jaw and gently brushes over his cheekbone, all the while exploring the mouth with his tongue and changing the rhythm of his hand between full-length strokes and teasing of the head. He feels Cas’ fingertips press into his shoulder when the man comes hot and sticky between them and he gently strokes him through the orgasm.

It boosts an incredible amount of pride and happiness in Dean’s chest to have brought the other man pleasure. When he leans back to admire his work, he has to chuckle. Cas looks like he could melt into the couch any second. Dean looks down at himself, realizing that his shirt got painted in Cas’ release too, and it fires something possessive deep inside him. He takes the washcloth and cleans them up just as gently as Cas has been earlier. They take some time to change into something more comfortable and to throw Dean’s clothes into the washer, then settle on the couch again, both grinning. Dean has his arm on the backrest of the couch and Cas leans into him like they’ve done this a thousand times.

“I liked this evening very much,” Cas says after a while. They turn on the TV and watch something in the late program.

“Me too, Cas, me too.”

That night, Dean stays in Cas’ guest room again. It’s weird to not lie next to the other man after what they’ve done on the sofa, but they silently agreed on not sleeping in the same bed. Dean fears he might cuddle Cas in his sleep and he feels that he might not be ready yet to wake up next to a guy. And also, Cas might not want to indulge in these couple-ish things… they're not really _dating_ after all.

The next morning, Dean kisses Cas in the kitchen while they make breakfast and when he helps him with the dishes and when he says goodbye. On the way back home, he feels really happy and even whistles quietly when he stops to gas up his Baby. He roams the aisles in the Gas-N-Sip and stops in front of the condoms. Dean has never spared a thought about flavored condoms, but now he really wonders if they are worth the price. He’s not even embarrassed that he intends to test the theory on Cas someday, probably sooner than later after last night, so he ends up adding a box of several flavors to his shopping basket and grins at the cashier when paying for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings:  
> \- masturbation  
> \- hand-job(s)
> 
> Phew, I kinda have the need to get this out: I'm in my sixth month of being on ao3 and I was sooo nervous to even post anything, but the recognition from all of you by simply reading my stuff has helped me a lot to... well, believe that I'm not a crappy writer. I squeak every time I see a comment in my inbox and kudos under my work. I'm still nervous to post, but I'm thanking past-me for having registered on this site. So, thank all of you for still reading this stuff, Love you <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, it's getting cold outside (at least where I live), so I thought something fluffy can give us the needed warmth from inside ;) This chapter is all about Dean and Cas being cute together, but to justify the existence of it in the meaning of plot, you'll get a bit of backstory about Cas, which is kinda sad.
> 
> Love y'all for the constant positive feedback. I hope you enjoy this one as much as I enjoyed writing it <3
> 
> Edit: I had to delete and repost this chapter, 'cause something went wrong the first time

Having taken this  _thing_  with Cas a step further has Dean more relaxed and balanced over the next week. It's not like he doesn't itch for the other man's touches and kisses anymore, but to know that he's  _allowed_  all those thoughts and daydreams - and the slight hope that Cas has them too - lifts a weight from his shoulders. He gets a lot more done in less work time, maybe because he always looks forward to texts from Cas over the day. Even his co-workers notice his good mood and confront him with it, which is a bit offending. They act as if he's usually a mope. Dean just shrugs at their questions, pretending to be happy for no specific reason, because it's nobody's business but his and Cas'. He's just glad that Cas sees it the same way, not that there's a reason to hide him, but people probably would read too much into it. They wouldn't understand that he's just having fun with a friend and that he makes the most out of the fact that this friend is hot as hell.

On Friday, he picks up Ben to eat with his mom and Mick, then takes the eight-year-old to the planetarium and listens to his excessive narration about the school project week.

“If I don’t get to become an astronaut, I’m gonna become a lawyer like uncle Sam,” Ben says.

Dean looks over from his seat and grins at his son’s enthusiasm. He will make damn sure that Ben will have every chance to become whatever he wants.

“Oh, and there was this other man, who said he’s your friend. I think his name was Mr. Novak,” the boy continues.

_Cas was helping with the tour for the kids?_   “Yes, Cas is a good friend. I know him through Sam.”

“I like him, he’s a nice guy.”

That Ben likes Cas somehow is very important to Dean. “Oh, you think?”

“Yes, one girl in my class, Ivy, she was ill on that day and Mr. Novak made a tea for her, so her throat didn’t hurt so bad.”

_That really sounds like Cas_. Dean chuckles softly to himself at the mental picture of the lawyer not being able to just watch a little girl cough.

 

On Monday, Dean decides that it’s time to meet with Charlie without needing a therapeutical kick in the ass from her for once. She shrieks with joy when he calls her, so Dean has to hold the phone away from his ear to not suffer from sudden hearing loss. To at least pay her back a bit of the colossal debt he has for her playing shrink on him, he promises to submit to everything she plans on doing this evening _and_ to pay for the food. Turns out Dean doesn’t have to _endure_ anything, she only brings her PlayStation to give him an introduction to the world of RPGs. Eating Chinese food out of the box and drinking beer from the bottle, Charlie shows him _The Witcher 3_ and she seems to enjoy very much to see him fail right after the opening sequence because he falls out of a window. But after a while, he’s got the knack of it. The game’s humor is exactly to his taste and it’s getting a little addictive. Dean is sure that it was Charlie’s aim to either get him to buy his own console, or to have him over at her place more frequently to continue the game. For a start, it has Dean adding the original books to his amazon shopping basket.

He is surprised how long it takes for her to broach the subject of Cas, but when Geralt gets it on with a hooker on the screen, Charlie grabs for the controller in Dean’s hand and pauses the gameplay. Her face says everything, but Dean still waits for her to ask for what had happened recently, and then he spills without getting too graphic in his narration. Actually, he really likes talking to someone about Cas in this way. Charlie fidgets more and more the longer he talks, and Dean is almost sure she’s going to burst at some point. She hugs him and tells him how proud she is, but then she punches his arm because apparently, she _ships_ them and their casual groping isn’t enough for her. Dean isn’t sure he even wants to know what _shipping_ means and if he should look it up later.

 

When Charlie went home the next morning – she zonked out on his couch at about one a.m. – Dean makes his way to the shop and picks up working on the gear of a beautiful classic car he got in the day before.

Later that day, he hears his phone buzzing to his right, but he’s so full of grease that he doesn’t grab for it to see who texted him. If it’s Cas, he won’t be mad for waiting a bit before he texts back. Only when it buzzes again after a minute and then a third and a fourth time, he puts his tools to the side and wipes his hands as best as possible. He has been right; the texts are from Cas.

**> > Cas: Kill me.**

**> > Cas: Who even had the brilliant idea that I should become a lawyer?**

**> > Cas: Your shop runs pretty well, do you think you need another helping hand? I’m not actually good with cars, but I could do the accounting.**

**> > Cas: But you do that yourself, right?**

Dean is confused and starts to worry. Just as he wants to type back and ask about what happened, another text from Cas comes in.

**> > Cas: Sorry, you’re probably busy and I’m just being whiney. Ignore the other messages and have a nice rest of the day.**

**< < Dean: Sounds to me like you’re having a rough day. What happened?**

**> > Cas: Nothing, really. Just ignore me and go back to what you were doing. I’ll write you tonight, okay?**

That’s enough. Cas always plays his own problems down, but not on Dean’s watch!

**< < Dean: Cas, don’t be ridiculous, something’s really bothering you. I’m world champion in the discipline of “grin and bear it”, you can’t shit me. **

**> > Cas: It’s just some work issue. My current case strains me.**

**< < Dean: You probably can’t tell me about it, right?**

**> > Cas: Right.**

Dean wants so badly to make Cas feel better. It’s just not fair that this gentle, caring man is anything but happy.

**< < Dean: Can’t you take off early today? Get a bit of rest and start fresh tomorrow.**

**> > Cas: I’d love to, but I have a meeting in an hour and I need to get at least something done until then. Hopefully, it won’t take that long and I’m out of here at five.**

Dean looks at the digits on the top edge of his phone and muses about what he should do.

**< < Dean: Okay, try to concentrate until then and text me when you’re about to leave the office.**

**> > Cas: Why?**

**< < Dean: So I can cheer you up a bit :)**

**> > Cas: Okay. Thank you, Dean. I’m going back to my work now.**

Dean watches the screen of his phone for another few moments, then puts it down and turns back to his own work. Luckily, he’s been quite busy so far this day, so he doesn’t have to feel guilty for clearing his workplace ahead of schedule. Jo and Garth don’t even say anything but ‘goodbye’ when he tells them he’s leaving.

It’s good that Dean left only fifteen minutes after texting Cas, because in the home-going traffic he needs almost thirty minutes more than usual to get to Overland Park. He parks the car in a side road at the building and waits for Cas to text him. Only in that moment he realizes that Cas might forget to text, or that he’ll text when he’s already in the car, so Dean might not be able to surprise him by coming up to his office. But he also can’t just go up there now and wait for him there. That’d be too much and could cause a lot of questions. Luckily, Cas stays true to his word and texts him about twenty minutes after Dean arrived in the parking spot.

**> > Cas: Okay, I’m done. Literally. I’m so glad this day is over.**

It’s really unusual for Cas to sound this exhausted, and Dean worries his surprise could be not welcomed, but he still gets out of the car and walks the few meters hurriedly to catch Cas in his office. There’s only one elevator to the law office’s floors, so they won’t miss each other. The doors open with a _bing_ and Dean follows the hall like he’s been here a thousand times. Actually, it’s the first time he’s here not to either visit Sammy or to apologize to Cas. Wow, what a development. The door to Cas’ office is closed, but through the frosted glass panel right next to the door he can see light shining. Dean knocks and waits for Cas’ deep voice to call him in before he enters the room with a smile. He’s quite curious to see the other man’s startled expression when he sees Dean, and he doesn’t get disappointed.

“Dean? What…?”

“Hey Cas,” he says, slowly going over to the desk with a grin. He can’t hold back a smile whenever he sees the lawyer, not even when he looks as tired as now. It’s not really a look Dean likes to see on the other man.

Still startled, Cas tries again. “Dean, what are you doing here?”

“Like I said, I’m gonna cheer you up. I thought an after-work beer couldn’t harm, so I’m here to pick you up. What do you say, we go to the pub, share a jumbo bowl of Chili-Nachos and just drink this stupid day away, huh?” Fast-food and booze always works for him to forget about a shitty day, and hopefully it will help Cas too. At least, it’ll probably let him fall asleep easily.

But looking at Cas’ face, almost awestruck, Dean isn’t sure anymore if this was a good idea.

“Dean,” Cas starts and Dean could swear he hears the other man swallow, “You came all the way from Lawrence through rush hour traffic just because I have a bad day?”

Dean laughs softly at Cas’ disbelief. “Cas, you make it sound like I took a bullet for you. Of course I’m here, that’s what friends do.”

“I- I have no idea what to say.”

“Just agree to come with me, that’s all I need to hear,” Dean says and grabs the trench coat from a hook at the wall.

“Okay,” Cas agrees quietly, “thank you, Dean.”

Dean helps him into the coat and gives him the most reassuring smile he can muster, trying to get across that everything is going to be alright. They leave the office and walk down the hall side by side to get to the elevator.

“Dean?” It’s Sam’s voice and Dean turns around immediately to see his brother standing in a doorframe. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh,” he gets a bit nervous to explain why he’s here, but remembers that the truth doesn’t imply that he and Cas are more than friends. “Cas and I are going out for an after-work beer. You’d like to come along?” He adds the last sentence a bit carefully. It’s just polite and not like he would mind having his brother there too, but to be honest, Dean hopes to have a bit alone time with Cas.

“No, I’ve still got some stuff to do and Eileen and I already have plans for this evening.”

Relief flows through his body, which he should feel guilty for, but with a little side-glance to Cas, he thinks he sees a bit relaxation in the other man too. “Okay then, have fun with whatever you two are doing and say hello from me.”

“From me, too,” Castiel adds.

“Sure, you two drink a beer for me, okay?” Sam smiles and disappears behind a door.

 

Dean and Cas split up to take their separate cars to Cas’ apartment building and park there before meeting again in front of the pub a few minutes later. It’s almost empty inside, no wonder for early evening on a workday, and Dean chooses a booth for them in the back of the bar where they’ll be a bit more to themselves. He orders the nachos, beer and cider and just watches Cas for a moment. He has to find a topic to get the other man’s head off the case for an evening, because whatever it is, it affects the lawyer deeply and Dean hates to see him like this.

“My son likes you,” he says out of the blue. It’s the first topic that came to his mind.

Cas eyes him quizzically like he has no idea what he’s talking about. “He does?”

“Yeah, he told me that when he was at your office with his class, there was a guy called ‘Mr. Novak’ who is a friend of me. I have to say, I was quite impressed that you helped with the kiddies tour. But it was so obvious that you would offer a little girl tea for her throat.” He still smiles at the image of Cas and that kid.

“She was coughing, what should I do? And Ben said he likes me?”

“Is it so unbelievable for you? You could say, like father, like son,” Dean laughs before he adds, “Whatcha say ‘bout my boy?”

When Cas answers, it’s the first time that Dean sees him smile that day. “He’s a very cheerful and smart young man. You’re right, like father, like son.”

Dean doesn’t miss the soft expression in the other man’s eyes and blushes. Damn, Cas always makes him blush like a teenage girl.

Their food and drinks arrive, and they talk about anything but work; the latest Dr. Sexy episode – which they already live-commented via texts on that evening – and even politics. Dean trashed his fear to talk about _serious_ topics with Cas just because the lawyer knows a lot a while back and not once felt like they were talking on different intellectual levels. It amazes him every single time how easy and uncomplicated his talks with Cas are.

The longer they talk, the more they drink – especially Cas – and at some point, Dean decides for them to relocate the event to Cas’ apartment. He doesn’t intend to get physical, but he noticed over the past minutes that the other man loses focus and looks all in all tired, so he’ll probably want to get into his bed soon. Dean pays and once they’re outside in the cool air, his head starts to clear a bit. By the time they reach the apartment, he doesn't feel drunk anymore. Cas, however, gets more sluggish the more steps they take upstairs and even leans into Dean a bit when he opens the door. Inside, Dean realizes that the other man is far too tired to do anything more this evening, so he suggests to get him in his bed, dragging a nodding Cas into the bedroom. It’s the first time Dean is in this room and he quickly takes a look around. Beside a king size and the usual bedroom equipment with nightstands and built-in wardrobe, an exercise bike stands in one corner. Well, that reveals the secret about Cas’ marvelous thighs.

While Cas sits on the bed, taking off his shoes, Dean rummages around to find sweatpants and a T-Shirt for the man. At the bottom of the closet, Dean sees two large cardboard boxes, both labeled with a name.

“Who’s Anna?” he asks, grabbing the clothes he searched for and handing them to Cas. But the other man doesn’t take them, so Dean looks at him more closely, noticing how Cas’ head is sunk to his chest with his eye’s closed. _Oh, I probably shouldn’t have asked._ “Sorry, Cas, you don’t have to tell me.”

“No, it’s okay,” Cas answers quietly, “I just- I haven’t talked about her in years.”

Dean senses that there is a sad, heavy conversation coming, so he sits down next to Cas; close, but still leaving the other man enough room to not feel cornered. And then he waits.

“Anna is my sister,” Cas says, pausing and taking a deep breath, “she _was_ my sister.”

_Oh, fuck._ Dean isn’t even sure if it’s best to say something or wait for Cas to tell him in his own pace, but when the other man stays quiet for almost a minute, Dean asks, “What happened?”

“She died,” Cas explains simply, “breast cancer. It’s almost four years ago.”

He feels that Cas is shifting closer, so Dean lets him lean against his shoulder and offers as much of support as he can. “I’m sorry, Cas. That’s really horrible. How old was she?”

“Twenty-six. She was the youngest of us, four years younger than me.”

Dean can’t even begin to relate to how this must feel. The age gap is exactly like with him and Sam… Oh god, if he would lose Sammy at such a young age. No, he doesn’t even want to think about it. Just the thought hurts.

“Cas, I- I have no idea what to say. I’m really sorry, it’s not fair for such a young woman to die. Were you close?”

He hears a low sob from the other man and instinctively wraps his arms around Cas. “We were, a long time ago. She always encouraged me to not listen to our parents, to not let them drag me down for… for being gay. She stood up against them, more than once, to fight for me. She broke all contacts to our parents and our oldest brother because she couldn’t live under the same roof with them after how they treated me when I came out to them. And she wasn’t even eighteen then. But I was so busy with my job, so focused on pushing my career, that I barely saw her anymore. And I didn’t even know she was ill. She didn’t tell me, because she didn’t want me to worry. Can you believe that? She knew she was going to die, she went through several chemo, _alone_ , and she didn’t tell me because she didn’t want me to worry. I got informed about her death by the hospital. It was a Saturday morning. It rained.”

Dean watches how Cas pauses his narration because he can’t hold back the tears anymore, and he holds the lawyer close, lets him cry and sob as long as he wants. It’s obvious that he didn’t have anyone to help him process this, to process the grief and hold him through all the bursts of tears. And Dean is proud that Cas allows him to do it now, to stroke a hand through his hair and caress his body and to simply be there.

“My parents weren’t there for the funeral, only Gabriel and I and a few of her friends,” Cas goes on after a while. If this is the first time he tells anyone of this, it’s probably better to get it all out, and Dean will listen, no matter how long it takes. “Gabriel is my other older brother, the one who didn’t see me as a biblical abomination. Anna’s death hit him hard, I haven’t seen him since then, but I heard he moved to New York. We took care of her apartment, donated most of her stuff for charity, just like she would’ve wanted it, but I couldn’t give away some things. They’re in the boxes. It’s mostly her art, she was a painter. I have another few larger paintings in the basement, but once I had all of them here, I couldn’t look at them, it was just too painful, so I stored them away. It’s a shame, actually.” With a deep sigh, Cas stops talking and Dean has the feeling he won’t start again.

He holds the dark-haired man for another few minutes, making sure he doesn’t shake anymore, before he speaks. “I believe she doesn’t mind her stuff being stowed away. You need time, and that’s okay, and once it doesn’t hurt anymore to look at the paintings, you bring them out to the world again and then it’s going to be okay, Cas. Take all the time you need.”

When Cas doesn’t answer, but snuggles closer to Dean, he kisses the lawyer on top of the head. “Come on, let’s get you into bed. When do you need to get up tomorrow?”

A little delayed, Cas says “At half past seven,” his voice muffled from burying his face in Dean’s shoulder.

Smiling, Dean extracts himself out of Cas’ grip as careful as possible and hands him the sweatpants and T-shirt. When the man has changed and is securely tucked in, he’s about to stand up from the edge of the bed and go to the guest room, but Cas tightens a hand around his wrist and looks up to him with a sad, pleading expression. “Can you stay?”

And to be honest, there’s nothing Dean wants more in this moment, so he quickly sheds out of his shoes and jeans, and slips under the blanket next to Cas in just shirt and boxers. Immediately, the other man snuggles to him and they fall asleep with Cas’ head on Dean’s chest.

 

\----------

 

Castiel hears the alarm clock but doesn't really pay attention because the buzzing suddenly stops. Only when a hand gently brushes his shoulder and a voice – Dean's voice – says his name, he realizes he's not alone in his bed.

“Cas, wake up.”

Grumbling, he turns his back to Dean. He hasn't seen the time yet, but it's definitely too early.

“Come on, Cas. It's half past 7.”

Damnit, he really has to get up. Dean chuckles when Cas only begrudgingly opens his eyes.

“Good morning, sunshine. What do you say, you go and take a shower while I put something together for breakfast, huh?”

Castiel murmurs something in the meaning of “okay” but doesn't even move his little toe. That is, until Dean hops out of the bed – much too enthusiastic for this time of the day – and a stream of cold air reaches him under the blanket. He curses but hears Dean’s laugh again and that sound slowly brings back the memory of why they were sleeping in one bed together, and of why he has a headache. _Anna…_ He talked about Anna, and he cried, more than he had ever before, and Dean was there to hold him and calm him. It’s really not how the evening should’ve turned out, and he’ll need to apologize to Dean for sobbing into his shirt, but on the other hand it warms his heart deeply with how affectionate the other man had been.

Castiel reluctantly gets out of bed and walks into the bathroom, showers quickly and dresses before he follows a mouthwatering smell into the kitchen. The sight is truly one to remember. Dean is barefoot in jeans and a T-shirt, stands at the stove and flips something in a pan while swaying to some pop song on the radio. Castiel chuckles and wishes he could have Dean like this more often; this cheerful, caring man, who drove over an hour just to make a friend happy. And it’s so hard for Castiel to keep saying this word, even in his mind… _friend_. Is it all they’ll ever be? When Dean has enough of fooling around, when he finds someone else to bring him pleasure in a physical way, will he be okay to go back to just casually be friends? Castiel knows he has no right to demand more, to _claim_ Dean as his, but this voice inside his head is getting louder and louder. He cares for Dean, deeply, and it’s been a long time since he felt lightheaded and nervous around someone.

“Hey, sleeping beauty,” Dean says as he turns around, and jolts Castiel from his thoughts.

“Good morning, Dean,” Castiel answers, looking startled at the plate Dean puts on the table, “Pancakes? I didn’t know I have everything here for it.”

The tall man laughs as he puts two plates and knives and forks down for them to eat. “No, actually I had to improvise a bit. I made up for the flour with oatmeal, and you don’t have sirup but I thought honey works too.”

Again and again, Dean surprises him with sweet, little things. “You really didn’t have to make breakfast for me, Dean,” he says as he sits down.

“Come on, even lawyers have to eat from time to time. And it doesn’t bother me, you know that I like cooking.”

They eat in silence for a moment, the pancakes truly a dream, and Castiel marvels at this beautiful man in front of him. Inside and out. “Dean, about yesterday,” he starts, searching for the right words to explain what he is trying to say, “thank you. Just… thank you, for everything.”

The mechanic already starts to wave it off, but before he can open his mouth, Castiel quickly adds, “No, really. Thank you for coming over and cheering me up. And thank you for listening and for not going away because of my gross sobbing, and also for staying with me the night. You say it’s just normal and what friends do, but for me it’s special. I’ve never spoken about Anna’s death before and I don’t think I could’ve done it with anyone else. I trust you and I feel much better now. I don’t think I can really express how much it means to me. How much it means to have you in my life.”

Dean looks down on his plate, but Castiel can swear he saw the other man’s lips tremble, just a little bit. “Cas, I- I want you to know that I’m proud you see it like that. That you trust me so much, you share this story with me. Because I trust you too, you know, and I’m so happy that you put up with my crap all the time. I want you to be happy and if I can do my bit, I’ll do it… damn, you always make me blush, it’s embarrassing.”

Castiel smiles brightly at Dean’s shyness and cups the man’s cheek across the table. Thankfully, his kitchen table is rather small, so it’s no problem at all to lean forward and press a short, close-mouthed kiss on his lips. Dean’s breath hitches and Castiel can feel him twitch for a second under his palm, but he quickly melts into the touch and follows the movement to chase the kiss, when the lawyer leans back again. He has to smile against Dean’s mouth how insistent the man keeps their lips sealed, and so they kiss for another few moments. It’s neither hot nor passionate, but it’s sweet and Castiel’s heart skips a beat. It’s how he imagines them to kiss if they were together, like _in love_ together, and for now, for just this moment, Castiel can pretend his dream to be true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention these two are idiots in love? I mean, come on!!
> 
> Let me know if you liked it :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okaaaay, so, I'm back with another chapter and it's quite short this time. The thing is, I have already plotted most of the stuff that's going to happen in the future for Cas and Dean (yeah, things are gonna happen), but I struggle a bit with the part in between, so the real near future for them.
> 
> Still, I hope you like this chapter, it's a bit different, because Cas and Dean don't meet, but it's their POV on their 'relationship'. Thanks for still reading :)

It’s quarter to nine when Castiel slumps into the desk chair in his office. With new energy, he dives into the case, sorting through the files he left unopened yesterday. His client doesn’t need to know that it’s mostly to keep his own emotional chaos at bay, but he makes a substantial progress before lunch, so Castiel assumes nobody would mind either way.

This morning he realized that something essential is missing in his life. He’s on his own for over a decade now, alone but never lonely, fully content with regular one-night-stands to satisfy his sex drive, and otherwise more than comfortable with only himself as company. Experiencing this little domestic moment with Dean at the breakfast table, however, felt like a spotlight was thrown on the empty spot inside of him that craves nothing more than a constant at his side. Someone to kiss and to laugh with, to fight with over the last slice of pizza and to fall asleep and wake up next to. _Someone like Dean…_

No, he can’t think like that, he mustn’t. His role in this ‘relationship’ with Dean is crystal clear; He helps the other man to explore his sexuality, nothing more. Friends-with-benefits, that’s what he tells himself again and again, hoping that one day he’ll believe it, _accept_ it. Dean holding him tight the night before, Dean listening to him and making the best improvised pancakes in the world, it all doesn’t mean anything. It only shows what an attentive and kind human being the mechanic is, and Castiel can be glad to have a friend like him. He _is_ glad, over the moon actually, but still… he wants more, and although he knows he’s not going to get it, he hangs on to those moments. The proximity to Dean, his touches and even his smile, is like a drug, and Castiel itches for the next shot.

He takes a break to fill up his mug. Maybe after another cup of tea some kind of calming effect of the herbal infusion will be noticeable. All good things come in threes, after all. In the little kitchen, Castiel meets Sam, who is reading the notes on the pin board while letting his own tea steep.

“Hello, Sam,” he says, walking over to the water kettle.

“Hey, Cas. How was your evening?”

Castiel tries to be nonchalantly. “Good. I really needed a drink.” He better keeps to himself what helped him a thousand times more than the alcohol.

“Yeah, that’s Dean’s specialty,” Sam laughs, “I’m glad to see that you two get along well.”

_‘get along well’ is a nice way to describe it, although ‘I think I’m falling for your brother’ would be more accurate_. Of course, Castiel doesn’t say it out loud, so instead he goes for “Yes, I’m happy to call him a friend.”

“After this whole misunderstanding it kinda surprised me. But I think you two are good for each other,” Sam pauses for a moment and fidgets with the teabag in his mug, “sorry, Cas, I didn’t mean to sound rude, it’s just that I think you look happier since you and Dean go out from time to time.”

“It’s okay, Sam, I don’t feel offended. It’s true, your brother has the gift to easily let someone forget about one’s own problems and worries.” And to make someone feel cared for, secure, _loved_. Castiel stops this train of thoughts immediately. It will lead to nothing, just chasing rainbows.

Sam smiles softly at him. “Yeah, it’s always been like this, as long as I can remember. Maybe I’m wrong, but I think he changed a bit too. He only ever had friends who are also family in a way, or people he knows since school, but with you I kinda have the feeling like he… I don’t know… opens up his horizon. If that makes any sense.”

Castiel chokes on the tea he poured himself. _You have no idea how right you are_ , he thinks. “I get what you mean. And it’s mutual. He opens up my horizon in a way I’d never thought.”

 

\----------

 

It feels like ages ago since Dean last drove to work in the same clothes he’d worn the day before, and that had been out of a complete different reason then now. Luckily, the rush hour traffic on K-10 is mostly concentrated on the other direction, so he gets through smoothly. Actually, he could get used to this; a little bit of time to himself in the morning to really wake up, his favorite music low in the background and the scenery outside passing by, familiar and memorized by now with the constant driving to Overland Park and back.

He sighs. Maybe it’s really time to move. His apartment never felt like _home_ anyway, and on his way through the suburbs this morning, he’d seen a lot of houses he could easily picture himself in. A hoop over the double-garage, the front porch lined with flowerbeds, a swing hanging from a tree… the only problem in this picture is that he’s not alone, but in real life he is. Sure, he would have Ben over more often and could finally arrange family dinners at his place, but there’s no one there when all the others are gone home at night, no one to fall asleep next too. And oh, he noticed how good that feels last night with Cas.

He could tear his hair out. This picket fence dream lingers inside of him for so long now, and he swore to himself to pursue it, to finally strike up a meaningful relationship. But then Cas happened and now he wants nothing more than to explore this, to learn all about Cas’ and get to know his own body in a different way. He’s not willing to give this up for chasing rainbows, not with how good it feels to be with Cas. So, screw the house and the pictured wife and kids and the damn picket fence. He’s still young enough to get all this once Cas is tired of fooling around with him. He quickly shakes off the weird feeling this thought evokes in him and turns up the volume of his tape player.

The time downright runs by for Dean this day, and he does more paperwork than actually working on a vehicle, but that’s part of his job too. He stays until long after the others are gone and the sun set, but in the end, he’s satisfied with the results. Tired, but satisfied.

Getting back into his apartment and hearing his own footsteps resound in the hall draw his head back to the thoughts this morning. He sighs and throws his keys into a bowl on the kitchen counter. Dean could laugh if he didn’t feel pathetic; he’s a grown-up man with his own business and a son, but he’s afraid of being alone.

With frozen pizza and a bottle of beer, Dean sits down on his couch – or better, _slumps_ down on his couch – too tired to even pretend he’d want to cook this evening. For a moment, he thinks about calling Cas, to let his thoughts get eclipsed by this gravelly, almost hypnotic voice, but that wouldn’t be fair. Not when Dean knows how Cas struggles with his current case, and definitely not after learning the sad story about his sister. The man already has to grapple with other people’s problems professionally, he doesn’t need Dean to add to that.

But because they didn’t spend even one day lately where they at least said goodbye in a text, Dean quickly sends a message.

**< < Dean: Goodnight Cas, I hope you had a better day than yesterday :)**

Unfortunately, the beer and the pizza and even the half-eaten box of cookies he found behind a sofa cushion – no clue how they ended up there – don’t put his mind to rest. Everywhere he looks at in his apartment screams loneliness back at him. And because sometimes he’s a masochistic asshole who loves to hurt himself emotionally, Dean stands up and fetches the photo album his mother gave to him a few years back from the shelve. The album from his childhood, the one with pictures of a time before everything went up in flames, before the two police men knocked on their front door to inform a suddenly widowed Mary Winchester about the car crash and express their condolences.

Dean remembers the first time he looked at those photos after his dad had died and how Sam, only thirteen years old, had to take the scissor away from him or he would’ve scratched every single picture of his dad’s laughing face. He was furious, because he’d lost the man he’d looked up to for years and because he had to watch his mom and brother grieving over him. But mostly, Dean was furious because it had all been a lie. John Winchester, the man who taught him about the importance of family and responsibility, piled up debts for years, hiding it even from his wife, and left them all on a razor-edge when he drunkenly hit a tree with his car.

Dean still feels his blood boil when he thinks about how hard he had to work so his mom wouldn’t lose the house and Sammy wouldn’t have to worry about any of his hobbies. Of course, his mom never asked him to help out, to quit school, but if John Winchester couldn’t stick to his responsibility, Dean had to, and he did it with proud.

Now, after all those years, he doesn’t feel rage anymore, seeing his dad grinning back at him from slightly yellowed photos, he almost pities the man. Dean sighs, he’s going to do it better, that was the promise he made to himself at that time. _Hell, I_ am _doing it better with Ben already_. And one day, his wife and kids will have a comfortable home and he’ll always be there for them, no matter what.

He groans and puts the album on the coffee table. It’s no use to stew over the past, but he knows that it still affects him and probably always will. Dean makes his way into his bed eventually, totally exhausted by this day. When he has stripped to his boxers and settled comfortably in the warmth of the blanket, he sees his phone light up on the night stand.

**> > Cas: I did, thanks to you! I’m sure I’ll be able to make it up to you. Goodnight Dean and sleep well.**

Dean smiles softly at the text. _Oh Cas, you already make it up to me every single day and you don’t even know it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I plan more fun time and sexy time for our two lovebirds in the next chapter, now I just have to write it ;) I promise to not make you wait too long.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone :) I'm back with a new chapter and it's definitely longer than the last one. I also made a huge progress in work out the plotting for the chapters to come.
> 
> Enjoy reading and have a happy start into December :)
> 
> warnings for sexual content in the endnotes

Dean doesn’t see Cas again for over a week. They intended on going to the movies on Saturday, but he had to cancel shortly, because Lisa asked him to watch Ben. It’s not like he could’ve told her that he wasn’t free that evening because he was going out with his brother’s super-hot co-worker and was already looking forward to sucking the man’s dick that night. Fortunately, Cas isn’t mad at all. He understands that Ben will always be Dean’s priority. But just because they don’t see each other doesn’t mean they’re not having contact at all. Their late-night texting turns into phone calls at some point and Dean can’t believe that Cas has never had phone sex before. To say that talk ended amazing is the understatement of the century.

When Sam called Dean to ask if he would join him and Eileen for dinner in the Roadhouse on next Friday, and casually let slip that he’d invited Cas too, the mechanic agreed within a split second. Nothing could top the start into a weekend but the three b’s. Beer, burgers and blowjob. Dean might have been embarrassed and even a bit ashamed at first, but after he bought that box of flavored condoms, he just couldn’t get it out of his head. Everything he and Cas did so far was amazing on a higher level, and yes, he did all of that for the first time with a man, but the sensations weren’t completely _new_. He knew kissing, and dry humping and so on, and although jerking Cas came very close to a complete new experience, it’s not like he never had a dick in his hand before; namely his own. So, the very thought of blowing Cas kind of gets him excited.

Friday comes, and Dean is working in the shop to get a car fixed before the weekend. He has the volume turned up and sings to it – there’s no way to deny that he’s in a good mood – so he doesn’t hear when someone enters his work room. Only when the music suddenly stops he turns around to see a person he hadn’t expected to be here.

“Bela?” he asks.

“Hello Dean,” she grins as she leans against the wall.

“Well, long time no seen. I thought you were finished here and are back in New York.”

“Oh, I was. But you know how it is, I’m going where the job takes me, and now I’m back in Kansas for a while.”

Dean puts the wrench he was holding aside and wipes his hands on his jeans. “Found another old guy with too much money you can sell some antique stuff to?”

“No, it’s actually still Crowley. He redecorates a few rooms on his property and needs my expertly advice and skills to fill the empty spaces with rarities.” She walks through the room while she speaks and seems to inspect every inch around her. “He’s also going to expand his garage.”

“Ah, you’re here on business,” Dean says. Not that he would complain. Restoring cars for Crowley has been to his bank account’s liking and the shop’s reputation not exactly suffered from it.

“I am,” she smiles, like she always does, in a rather cold and calculating way. “I haven’t found anything yet for you to fix, but I’m charged to give you this.” She fetches an envelope out of her purse and hands it to Dean. “It’s an invitation for Crowley’s Christmas party next month.”

Dean opens it and reads the definitely expensively printed invitation. “It’s on 9th, not really a Christmas party.”

“It’s Christmas themed, so just go with it. He’d like to see you there. I heard he might have a job offer for you.”

Dean laughs under his breath and puts the envelope on a table to his right. “I already _have_ a job, Bela.”

“Don’t worry, it’s going to be compatible with your own schedule. But he’ll tell you everything on the party,” she pauses for a moment, stepping closer and grinning mischievously, “the invitation is a _plus one_ , you know. So, can I expect to see you with someone there?”

_Yeah, no, not really._ He has no girlfriend right now and to be honest, he wouldn’t even want to take some girl to the party. The only person he could imagine going out with is Cas. And although it’s not technically necessary for them to date to go out to a party together, it would mean to officially – as in _out in the open_ – attend an event with a man and to let people _see_ it. No, that’s not gonna happen.

Dean realizes that he must’ve stayed quite while he was musing, because Bela tentatively starts talking again. “I can’t speak for the other guests, but Crowley wouldn’t mind if you came with another man. Are you seeing anyone?”

This is the moment he wanted to have months ago, the perfect moment to clarify, to tell her that everything had just been a mistake. He should, but now that Dean thinks about it, there isn’t really anything to tell anymore, right? Whatever Bela understood back then, kind of came true. He _is_ exploring his sexuality – although saying it like that still sounds odd, even in his head. So, what should he even explain to her? That it had been a misunderstanding back then but that he’s getting it on with a friend now? He can’t say it out loud, he simply can’t. With Cas, it’s no problem at all, but to tell anyone else in clear words, without beating around the bush, that he, _Dean Winchester_ , likes fooling around with another guy… no, he simply can’t. When this phase is over, and he really starts planning a family, he doesn’t want this to stick to him.

But because Bela already knows – in some sort of ways – he doesn’t need to tell her anything, he doesn’t need to say it out loud, but she still knows it. For once, he’s happy about the mistake.

“No, nothing steady,” he says after what feels like an eternity. It’s true, besides being one of the best friends he has, Cas is simply… an _experiment_.

“Oh, okay,” Bela shrugs. “But at least I’m going to see you in a tux for once.”

“So it’s that kind of a party?” Dean is not at all thrilled to attend a formal dinner.

“Believe me, his parties are famous to be anything but stiff, but he insists on some form of dress code,” she says, “If you’re coming alone, we’ll just bear each other’s company. I’m not bringing someone either, I’m just going because I have to and for the free drinks.”

Dean laughs “I’m in for the drinks.”

“Well, I guess I see you then, with or without company.”

That’s all of a goodbye Dean gets before she disappears out of the door, accompanied by the clicking of her high heels. He takes the envelope again and looks at it for a few moments before stowing it away in his jacket. There’s still a lot to screw on the car and Dean intends on taking a shower and changing his clothes before heading out for dinner.

 

With spare clothes on the backseat, Dean makes his way over to the Roadhouse. He didn’t need to bring a toothbrush, because he already has one at Cas’ apartment, and the T-shirt and sweatpants he wore in his first night at Cas’ somehow became his too, so clothes for the next day is everything he’s going to need.

They manage to pull off the two different modes – public and private – quite well by now, with a casual slap on the back for greeting instead of a wet, filthy kiss. But it still feels like a double-date to Dean when he takes his seat in their booth next to Sam and across from Cas. His brother always sits across from Eileen – for obvious reasons – so Dean is condemned to see into those blue eyes the whole evening. And staring isn’t the only thing tempting him to touch Cas, to kiss him or even wink at the man. When Cas takes a bite from his burger, for example, and a bit of ketchup sticks to the corner of his mouth, Dean is about to lean in and lick it off. But luckily, he remembers that this reality, not the secure bubble they built up behind closed doors.

They eat and drink and laugh, their topics ranging widely.

“Oh, you know who came by the shop today?” Dean asks when he remembers the events earlier that day. Sam, Cas and Eileen simply look at him quizzically, so he goes on, “Bela.”

“What did she want?” his brother asks, “Business?”

“Yeah, kind of at least. Crowley invited me to his super special Christmas party in early December. She said is has to do with some job.”

“So he has another car for you to restore?” Eileen seems to be genuinely interested.

“Not yet, it’s something else, but Bela wouldn’t tell me.” Dean still wonders what else than fixing a car Crowley has in mind.

“You’re going, right? I mean, that guy could bring you some good money.” Sam is already super enthusiastic about it.

“Yes, I’m going. But it’s super fancy, I need to borrow a tux.”

“I know a place, I’ll give you the address,” Cas says.

Dean smiles at him, “Thanks Cas.”

Sam turns his body slightly so that he’s talking more in Dean’s direction. “And did you… well, clarify things with Bela? The whole ‘liking men’ thing.”

Of course Sam had to bring that up. But really, it’s not surprising, he would ask that exact same question if their roles were reversed. Dean clears his throat and lowers his voice a bit. “No, I didn’t.”

He doesn’t look at Cas directly, but he knows that the man is staring at him. “Why not?” both Sam and Cas ask, and Eileen leans a bit about the table too.

Dean is conflicted about who to address with his answer. He decides on talking in Sam’s direction, because he probably can’t stand Cas’ gaze. “I don’t know. The topic didn’t come up and I forgot it. It doesn’t really matter anyway.” It’s a lie, but what else should he say?

“It doesn’t -, that sounded a bit different not long ago,” Sam says, apparently surprised.

“Yeah, well, I guess we all agree that I acted shitty. But it’s the past, no harm’s done, so no need to freak out.”

Sam pats him on the shoulder, it’s a bit awkward from their position, but Dean gets the message. “I have to say, I’m proud that you take it this easy. It’s probably Cas rubbing off on you.” He laughs loudly, and Dean can do nothing but join him. It’s the only way to hide the massive blush that creeps up his face. With a side glance to Cas he can see that the other man is in a similar situation.

“But you still have to tell her,” Sam goes on once they all caught their breath, “I mean, if you keep working together, it’ll probably come up at some point. And the longer you wait, the harder it’ll get to find an excuse for why you didn’t tell her.”

Dean simply nods, there’s nothing to add as Sam has put everything on the table about that topic. But his brother just doesn’t know the whole story. Cas does, of course, and Dean would pay good money to be able to read the man’s mind right now. His expression is a mixture of confusion and adoration. But that’s how he looks like most of the time, so it could or could not mean something.

 

Once the four of them have finished meal, dessert and – for Dean and Eileen – one or another beer, they step out into the cold November air.

“You’re staying with us tonight, right? I’m not letting you drive home,” Sam says firmly.

Dean clears his throat. “Actually,” he says, “I’m staying with Cas. He has a guest room too.” After one look at his brother’s surprised expression he adds waggishly, “If I want to have any nieces or nephews in the future, I should better stop staying overnight with you.”

Sam blushes deeply, but Eileen laughs and winks at him. Trust Dean Winchester to find a way to detract the attention from himself.

Once his brother and Eileen are gone, Dean and Cas stand alone in the dim light of the light post. “I came with Sam right after work, so I don’t have my car. We should probably call a cab,” Cas says.

“Or we could take my car,” Dean answers. He knows that he had a few drinks and won’t be able to drive, but that doesn’t stop them from taking his Baby. “The carpark at your apartment has places for guests too, right?”

“Yes, but Dean, you had three or four bottles of beer,” Cas comments.

“I know,” Dean grabs into the pocket of his jacket while he speaks, “that’s why you’re gonna drive.” He casually throws the keys over to Cas, who catches them with a stunned expression on his face.

“Are you serious?”

“Of course I am. Come on, it’s not difficult, and we don’t have that long of a way.” He starts walking over to where he’d parked the Impala in front of the bar, but after a few steps he realizes that Cas isn’t following, so he turns around and watches the dark-haired man staring back in something like awe.

“Are you coming?” His voice seems to jolt Cas from whatever thought he’s had and the only slightly shorter man catches up to him quickly.

They settle into the car, Dean calling shotgun, and it’s a weird feeling. He can’t even remember the last time he sat in another seat than behind the steering wheel. Cas is visibly nervous when he turns the key in the ignition.

“You’re okay, Cas. You’re not gonna break her. And even if, I know how to fix her. Did it more than once,” Dean tries to calm the man.

They move in what seems like slow-motion, although the streets are empty at this time of the night. The whole way over, Dean watches Cas instead of the road. He looks incredibly sexy in this spot and it does things to Dean. _He’d look even better in the backseat,_ he thinks. It’s a thought to keep for another day.

In Cas’ apartment, they pretend to just casually while away the evening in a relaxing way for about five minutes before their hands start to roam. Dean missed this. The warmth and weight of Cas’ body on his, the fading scent of his cologne, and the more than filthy sounds that escape his own mouth when Cas sucks on all the right spots on his neck. He feels his jeans getting tight and judging the way Cas grinds his pelvis down, the other man is in the very same condition. But Dean doesn’t want to finish this on the couch, not when there is a very comfortable and very spacey bed waiting for them down the hall, so he breaks the kiss at some point, audibly to Cas’ distress.

“Let’s take this to your bed, huh?” His voice comes out breathier than he expected.

Cas simply nods and stands up from Dean’s lap. They don’t waste any time and when the bedroom door closes behind them, Dean is being shoved onto the mattress playfully. He likes it. Cas is on him in an instant and both the softness under his back and the room to move his arms make this an even better experience. First to go are their shirts, the press of hot skin on skin quickly adding to Dean’s arousal, and not very much later their pants. Removing them turns out to be a bit awkward because they still have their shoes on, but not before long, the only thing separating them are two thin layers of cotton. Cas straddles him, pinning his hands on both sides of his head with a firm grip, and whispers in his ear. “I could use my mouth in a much better way than just on your neck, if you want.”

Dean shivers, Cas’ action and words making every last single drop of blood rush southwards. But this is not how he intended the evening to turn out.

“Actually,” he whispers back, softly brushing Cas’ earlobe with his bottom lip, “I’d hoped to get _my_ mouth into action on _you_.”

His words have the anticipated effect. Cas lets out a shaky breath and Dean takes advantage of the other man’s slight tremble to roll them over. Now, with Cas under him on his back, he takes a moment to just drink in the sight, miles of tan skin beautifully flushed with arousal. He leans in and kisses the dark-haired man.

“Dean, are you sure?” Cas asks, his voice low and anything but stable.

“Yes.”

They kiss for another few moments before Dean settles back on the mattress, his hands playing with the elastic of Cas’ boxer briefs. He pulls them off completely and tosses them to the ground. With a swift motion, he gets rid of his own black pair too, leaving the two of them completely naked on top of the bedding. _For the very first time_ , he realizes.

Although Dean looked forward to this for some time now, he starts to get nervous and covers it by busying his hands. He brushes his palms up and down Cas’ thighs, his thumbs ghosting over those razor-sharp hipbones. The dark-haired man just watches him for a long moment, then turns and opens the top drawer of his nightstand to fetch a foil packet. It reminds Dean of what he’s brought with him for this very occasion.

“Wait,” he says, hopping off the bed and quickly disappearing into the living room. He really should’ve thought about this earlier instead of leaving his special purchase in his jacket.

Back in the bedroom, Cas looks at him confused, but Dean just grins and throws the small box onto the bed.

“I _have_ condoms,” Cas says, eyeing the box.

“I know, but I bought them a while ago and thought we might try it. I never really had a reason to use flavored ones before”

The smile he gets in return lets Dean forget his slight discomfiture and he eagerly climbs back on the bed, pressing his body on top of Cas’.

“Okay, let’s see what we’ve got here,” Cas says, reading the back of the box, “Tropical, vanilla… blueberry-muffin? Really?”

“Yeah, that’s a bit overdone,” Dean chuckles. “I think I’d go for strawberry.”

“Well, it’s you who’s going to taste it, so take whatever you like. Besides, strawberry is a classic, not too bad of a choice.”

“I see you have experience in this field,” he winks.

Cas smirks, an unfairly sexy expression on the man’s face, and kisses him. “I do.”

Dean is glad that they get back into action so easily after a little pause, their bodies hot against each other and their tongue playfully fighting for control. He starts grinding his hip down, fueling the arousal again after their discussion about condom flavors. Soon enough, he wanders down Cas’ body, mouthing at his throat and sucking at a nipple, exploring every inch on his way. Cas’ hitching breath and his moans boost Dean immensely and he takes his time to _worship_ this body to the edge of teasing.

“Dean…” This one syllable stretched by Cas’ gravelly voice sounds almost sinful.

Stopping the kisses on the man’s inner thighs, Dean grabs for the box of condoms at his side and takes out the one he decided on using. As a bit of a show, he tears the foil package open with his teeth, making damn sure that Cas is watching, and rolls it onto the erection standing proudly in front of him.

_This is it_ , he thinks and tentatively licks over the head, eyes still focused on Cas. The chemically sweet flavor of strawberries spreads on his tongue. It’s not exactly a pleasant taste, but it’s not bad either. Dean takes the courage and closes his mouth around the tip, trying different moves, and all the while paying attention to Cas’ reaction.

Dean is surprised how much he likes it. At first, it’s weird having a guy’s dick in his mouth, but he reminds himself that this isn’t just _some_ guy, this is Cas, and soon enough, he gets down on him as much as he can, closing his fist around the part he can’t fit inside his mouth. Dean isn’t dumb, he knows that Cas probably had better blowjobs over the years, but he thinks he’s doing quite well for a newbie.

Cas’ moans definitely proof that. He’s twitching under Dean’s hands, words long forgotten for the benefit of groans and hitched breathing. It’s obvious that he’s trying damn hard not to thrust up into Dean’s mouth.

Alternating his attention between the tip, the shaft and the balls, Dean tries to recreate every move he likes to have done to himself, and the resulting vocal exclamations of Cas turn him on immensely. He unconsciously started rubbing his pelvis against the sheets a while ago, searching for at least a bit of friction, but now he jerks himself with his left hand. The right one is otherwise occupied.

Cas warns him, so he’s not surprised when the man comes. It’s weird to feel him pulse and spurt behind the thin latex layer, but the novelty of this is quickly forgotten when Cas’ satisfied cry reaches his ears and the man’s hands grip at his hair, pulling it slightly. Added to the mesmerizing sight of Cas’ face, eyes closed and mouth wide open, it sends Dean over the edge himself.

He falls onto his back next to Cas, they both breathing heavily while coming down from their orgasms. After a minute or two, Cas removes the condom, ties it up and throws it into a bin to his right. Dean guesses it’s been put there for this exact reason.

The dark-haired man smiles at him with a sleepy expression, then looks down between his own legs. “I see I won’t get to reciprocate this night.”

Dean huffs a laugh. “Yeah. You were too damn sexy, I couldn’t wait any longer. Sorry I made a mess on your sheets.

“I don’t mind at all,” Cas grins back.

They replace the stained bedding and put on their boxer briefs, but then Dean feels uncomfortable, standing in the middle of the room while Cas slips under the blanket. Should he go to the guestroom?

“Dean, you can stay.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, so Dean is next to Cas in an instant, a happy smile on his face.

 

The next morning, Dean wakes up to the view of Cas’ face on the pillow next to him and he marvels at the sight. He never realized just how long the man’s lashes are. He brushes a strand of dark hair from his forehead to get a better view at him. _He’s gorgeous._ When Cas eventually opens his eyes and gives him a sleepy but warm smile, he can’t help leaning in and kissing him. They enjoy the warmth of the bed for another ten or twenty minutes, but then Dean’s stomach pipes up.

“I guess we should make breakfast,” Cas says softly.

Dean is surprised to find the fridge stocked with about everything they need for a more than sumptuous breakfast – or brunch, as it’s already past eleven.

“I hoped you’d stay the night, so I went on a food run,” Cas admits shyly, coming up behind him to close his arms around his waist. Dean feels a short kiss placed on his neck and it runs a shiver down his spine.

They eat and rather smile than talk to each other for a while. It’s like the rush of their lives outside of this apartment is slowed down and Dean soaks up as much as he can. When he things about how busy his schedule is for the following week, he remembers what he wanted to ask Cas.

“Hey, do you have something planned for Thanksgiving?”

Cas looks up from his plate and eyes him cautiously. “I help at the homeless shelter, but otherwise not. Why?”

Dean is sad to hear that he’s spending the day alone. Well, not super sad, because he already assumed it and it plays in his hands. “We’re having the big family dinner at Sam’s and Eileen’s this year. My mom’s not gonna be there, her boyfriend can’t come home on the holiday and she doesn’t want him to be alone, so she went with him. But beside that, my whole extended family is coming. Bobby, Ellen and Jo. And Lisa and Ben of course. I- ,” he stops for a moment, suddenly too shy to ask what he planned this whole talk for. “I’d like you to come too. Sam and Eileen would love it, I’m sure, and I can’t stand the thought that you’re alone while I’m stuffing myself with turkey and pie.”

He waits for Cas to say anything for a long minute, but the dark-haired man just blinks and stares at him unbelievingly. “Dean,” he says eventually, “This is a _family_ dinner, I would just be in the way.”

“It’s about being thankful for what you have, and… I’m thankful for _you_ this year, you know? Come on Cas, you won’t be a fifth wheel, I promise. I’ll cook and bake a pie, Ben will be thrilled to see you again and we’ll just have a fun time, okay? It’s not the first time that someone brings a friend.”

The man eyes him for another few moments. “You’re sure about this?”

Dean nods.

“And you probably won’t take ‘no’ as an answer.”

“You got it.”

“Well,” Cas sighs, grabbing across the table to lay his hands on top of Dean’s and caress them with his thumbs, “Then I gladly accept the invitation.”

With a big grin, Dean closes the distance between them and kisses him over the table. _Hell yeah, Thanksgiving’s gonna be awesome_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: oral sex
> 
> Thanksgiving being over doesn't mean I can't write about it, so in the next chapter there's a homey, sweet family dinner waiting for our two lovebirds :)
> 
> Thanks for reading <3


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, fluffy new chapter to start the week.
> 
> Hope you enjoy reading it :)

Dean doesn’t complain that people have their cars fixed or checked at his shop before the holiday, extra money is always welcome, but it’s stressful three days. Somehow, he still ends up next to Cas every night. It’s never planned, but something comes up every single evening that have either Dean or Cas driving over to the other’s apartment.

On Monday, Cas comes over on impulse when Dean texts him that he forgot to do the grocery shopping and stands in front of an empty fridge. They eat Chinese food, watch TV and inaugurate Dean’s new sheets with some mutual hand action. He doesn’t care at all that he has to change the bedding although having it on for less than a day. It’s beyond question that Cas sleeps in his bed that night.

On Tuesday, on the pretext of handing back the tie Cas forgot at his apartment, Dean knocks on the man’s door, who finds it necessary to thank him by reciprocating Dean’s blowjob from Friday night. And on Wednesday, they both decide it’s a smart move for Dean to stay the night at Cas’, so he won’t have more stress the next day with driving the long way in addition to dinner preparations at Sam’s. It’s a lame excuse to simply spend more time together, but who cares?

Cas is pretty horny that evening; Dean doesn’t have a hard time getting that message with how filthy the man kisses him as soon as the front door closes behind him, or with how Cas’ foot brushes the inside of his leg now and then while they eat. They make it to the bedroom eventually, but not without bumping into some furniture on the way. It’s unbelievably hot how Cas _claims_ his mouth in the hall, how he practically rips Dean’s shirt from his shoulders and shoves him onto the bed. It’s no use to deny this show of control goes straight to his dick.

Dean comes fast that night, but Cas is not far behind. It’s amazing that absolutely simple movements of Cas’ hands and tongue let him orgasm like he’s been hit by a freight train. How is it even going to feel when they…

It’s not like Dean hasn’t thought about taking the next step in his sexual experiments with Cas, it’s actually been quite a prominent and frequent topic in his mind lately. But all the more _because_ of the time he spent fantasizing about it, Dean feels nervous. He’s not sure he’ll be ready anytime soon to  _ask_ for what he wants.

 

\----------

 

Castiel knows that they have a busy day ahead of them, so the breakfast is kept quite simple. After Dean left for dinner preparations, he tidies the apartment a bit. There’s not really much to do about it, but what else can he do in the one hour he has before he heads out to the homeless shelter.

Dean is going to spend the night here again – the third night in a row – so he brought a small bag with clothes. Castiel puts it from the hall into his bedroom and feels something like possessiveness but also proud to have the man’s belongings in this room. By now, he even refers to the left side of his bed as “Dean’s side”, and the second toothbrush in the bathroom looks as much like it simply belongs there as his own.

 

It’s probably as save to thrust a cooking spoon in Castiel’s hand as is a scalpel – simply put, not at all – so he’s taking over organizing the shifts, the placement of the supply and generally everything that has to be done before the cooking and serving starts in the shelter. The plus side is that he’s usually only needed from morning to early afternoon, but it never really felt like a plus, because the only thing waiting for him is an empty apartment. This year, however, he’ll be surrounded by friends, by people who are more of a family than he had in a long time. For the first time in years, he is truly _thankful_. Of course, he won’t be able to do everything as he likes. No holding hands with Dean or kissing him, but he really doesn’t want to think negatively today.

Fortunately, everything goes smoothly, only two helpers canceling on short notice and only one additional supplies-run required. At about noon, he gets a text from Dean, asking how he’s doing. It brings a smile to his face.

“Aww, I know that look, Castiel. Who’s the lucky guy?”

Castiel turns around to see Jody standing there. She and her daughter Alex lived next to him a few years ago and were actually the ones who brought him along to help at the shelter in the first place. It’s a shame that they don’t see each other anymore.

“It- It’s not like that,” he answers, blushing.

“Yeah, and I’m not a mid-forty single mom. Honey, your eyes are heart shaped.”

Castiel sighs. “It’s complicated,” he says, because for one, it’s a too long story, and for two, it doesn’t feel right to simply talk about Dean to others.

Jody’s smile is soft and genuine. “What’s not? Judging your look, he’s worth a bit of trouble, right?”

“Oh, he is,” Castiel grins.

“Just make sure he treats you right, okay?”

He nods and thanks Jody before turning his attention back to his phone.

**< < Cas: I’m doing fine, but I can’t wait for dinner and especially your pie.**

 

It’s almost four o’clock when Castiel takes the steps to Sam and Eileen’s front door. There are already several cars in the driveway and parking on the street right in front of the house, so he guesses that the other guests are already inside. And indeed, as soon as he steps onto the front porch, the door opens and the tall silhouette of Sam greets him.

“Hey Cas, great that you made it,” he says grinning and pulls Cas into a hug before leading him into the house.

The hall is decorated in a mix of autumn and winter, about a dozen of small paintings pinned to the wall. Probably artworks of Eileen’s class. Castiel smiles at the homey atmosphere and follows Sam into the living room.

The tall man clears his throat and five pairs of eyes look in their direction. Castiel feels like a deer in the headlights and is glad that at least Eileen is a familiar face, smiling brightly at him and getting up from her seat on the couch to hug him.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Cas,” she says.

“Happy Thanksgiving, and thank you for having me over today,” he answers.

“You’re welcome! It’s not like you and Dean are separable lately anyway.” Sam starts laughing and Castiel tries to hide his blush by joining in. This could turn out to be a _long_ evening

“Hello, Mr. Novak. Do you remember me?” A grinning Ben suddenly stands right before him, looking up with something Castiel would like to call a “Winchester-smile”.

He noticed the resemblance of father and son a few minutes into the tour Sam and he guided for Ben’s class. Not necessarily in their appearance, but definitely in their enthusiastic nature. Ben is a cheerful and clever boy, showing a bit of his father’s playful attitude. When Dean said that Ben likes him, it had Castiel take pride.

“Of course I remember you, Ben. But you can call me Castiel, or Cas if you like.”

What follows is a short introduction to everyone in the room. There’s Bobby and Jo – Castiel has heard _a lot_ about them already from Dean – and also Lisa. She’s a beautiful woman, with dark hair and sporty build. He can see why Dean had a thing for her once.

“Ah, I knew that I heard someone coming in.”

Castiel turns around to where the voice came from and sees a dark-haired woman standing in the doorframe. She wipes her hands on an apron and brushes a strand of hair out of her face.

“Hi, you must be Cas,” she says while walking over the short distance and pulls him into a hug. “I’m Ellen.”

The warm greeting is surprising but not unwelcome. “Oh, yes, from the Roadhouse.”

“You two are getting along in the kitchen?” Bobby asks, obviously directed at Ellen, but she keeps her attention on Castiel when she answers. “The turkey needs another thirty minutes or so, and Dean gives his pies the last touch right now. He really outdoes himself with the crust this year.”

He smiles at the thought of Dean in the kitchen, probably covered in flour and powdered sugar, making artwork on the crust. “I guess I better say hello quickly and let him do his work then,” he says.

“Sure, It’s at the end of the hall,” Sam explains.

Castiel excuses himself and follows the direction until he carefully opens the door to the kitchen and peaks inside. He has to stifle a laugh, because his imagination didn’t fail. Dean has his back to him, but the white, powdery stains on his black T-shirt are unmistakable. He stands at the kitchen counter and very gently crosses several sections of pie crust to build some sort of pattern. Castiel enjoys the sight for another moment before he clears his throat. Dean turns around and his face lights up in a brilliant smile, reaching his eyes and accentuating his many freckles.

“Hey Cas.”

“Hello Dean.”

Castiel steps into the room and wishes he could kiss Dean. Just like the hilarious imprint on his apron says. _Kiss the baker_.

“You already met everyone?” Dean asks.

Castiel nods and hums in reply. “Your family is amazing.”

“Yeah, I know. I don’t need much longer. Just go have fun. And keep Sam from coming in here, I don’t want him near any of the food before it’s ready.”

“I can help. Well, not with the cooking, but if there’s something else to be done- ”

Dean interrupts him and steps closer. “No, Cas. You’re our guest, _my_ guest. It really won’t take that long.”

“Okay,” Cas agrees, eyeing the kitchen counter behind Dean out of the corner of his eyes. “Can I see what you are doing there?”

Dean broadens his stand to shield Cas view. “Nope, not happening. You’ll have to wait until it’s finished.”

Castiel pretends to pout but it makes the other man laugh softly before he gets shoved out of the kitchen.

 

The time until Ellen and Dean call them for dinner is mostly spend with telling stories in the living room. Castiel listens to what seems to be a family tradition of wallowing in memories of past holidays. It should be weird to sit here with all these people who care so deeply for each other, but who are also hardly more than strangers to him. Except for Sam and Eileen. But it isn’t; It’s not weird or awkward. Everyone is very considerate of him, explaining things he couldn’t possibly know, and soon he finds himself laughing with them.

Dinner doesn’t make any difference. They gather around the table and cheer when Dean brings in a monster of a turkey, placing it in between mashed potatoes and brussels sprouts. He hands the knife to Sam, who’s job as the host it is to slice the bird. Judging the look the two brothers share, it’s a first-time thing for the younger Winchester. Dean sits down to his brother’s left, and right next to him, glancing over with an almost blinding smile. It’s obvious that the man belongs right here, in between family. Even after hours of standing in the kitchen, he practically glows with happiness and Castiel feels this joy splashing over to himself.

When everyone’s plate is filled with turkey, side dishes and loads of gravy and cranberry sauce, Sam raises his glass and clears his throat to get the other’s attention.

“You know what’s about to come,” he says beaming, “I’ll start this year’s round with a huge thank you for everyone at this table. My beautiful girlfriend Eileen,” he has his face turned to her the whole time, so it’s easier for her to follow, “my amazing family and friends, and that I can hold this dinner in my own house. It means a lot to have you here with me and although mom is missing this year, I feel like today is going to be just another great memory to relate to on rainy days.”

Castiel listens to everyone’s declarations of gratitude in awe. It’s genuine, coming directly from the heart, just like he always wished his Thanksgiving dinners to be. But he doesn’t feel sad that he missed out on it for so long, he’s bursting with happiness that he’s having it now with all those kind people. When it’s his turn to say something, it’s almost impossible to sort through all the different things he wants to say thank you for.

“My gratitude this year goes sky high. First of all, I’m thankful that you invited me to spend this holiday with you and welcomed me so warmly. Believe me, I don’t take it for granted,” he thinks for a moment and directs his next sentence at Sam. “I’m glad that we met. You’re not only a great colleague, but a great friend. I’m not the most sociable person, but you didn’t care, and for that I’m thankful. Through you, I got to meet Eileen and everyone here.” After a short pause he turns to Dean, “I know we two had a rough start, but now you’re the best friend I ever had and my life would lack something very important without you.” It’s hard to put into words just how much he means to Castiel and still let it sound platonic enough for the others. It’s only the tip of the iceberg, but hopefully, at least a little bit comes across.

Sam smiles at him, as does everyone else, and Ellen even grabs across the table to pat his hand. It feels so much like family.

Dean stays quite next to him for a few moments and Castiel can hear him swallow before he clears his throat and starts to speak. “Well, about everything has already been said, but there’s never too much of being thankful for the people you love. You all know how much my family means to me, and how grateful I am for everyone of you. I know I could talk about how thankful I am for my job or my badass car that’s still working,” everyone chuckles, “or even for the light traffic on K-10, and I _am_ grateful for that, but on days like this I remember what’s really important. And that’s you, all of you.” He takes a deep breath and raises his glass. “In view of the occasion, and because it’s been some time since we last drank to it, I want to click glasses with you. To family, because family don’t end with blood.”

Everyone at the table, even Ben with his juice, raises his glass and repeats cheerfully “Family don’t end with blood.”

Castiel is sure that there’s a story behind this, but right now he doesn’t care, because the meaning of it hits him hard. He looks around in all the happy faces while they start to eat and chatter, and he tries to brand this view on his mind. If their will ever come a time where he needs to cheer himself up and remind himself of how good life can be, he wants to remember this exact moment.

The food is amazing and they all fall into easy chatter. Castiel gets asked a lot of questions by the people around the table, and he gladly answers their genuine interest. Especially Ben doesn’t seem to stop asking things and he does his best to give the eight-year-old his full attention. The way the boy always starts a sentence directed at him with his name – “Hey Cas, do you like spaceships?”, “Cas, what’s your favorite pie?”, “Cas, how many criminals have you put into prison?” – have him beam with pride. He doesn’t know how he would feel if Dean’s son wouldn’t like him.

To finish this perfect dinner, Dean brings in his pies, one pumpkin and one apple. The crust really is an artwork, woven and braided on top of delicious fillings. The praise is more than justified and everyone, even Sam, takes a second helping. Munching, laughter and chatter mix together, filling the air with the unmistakable sound of family and home.

After dinner, they all gather in front of the TV to watch ‘A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving’, apparently another tradition with the Winchesters. Slowly but surely, tiredness spreads over them and Ben’s eyes droop a few times until Dean lifts him up and carries the boy to Lisa’s car. She says goodbye to everyone and takes off. After that, it doesn’t take long until Bobby, Ellen and Jo leave. Dean and Castiel feel like it’s time to go too, and after packing rest of the turkey in containers, they get into their cars and drive to his apartment.

The evening ends lazy on the couch. Castiel gets them a soft blanket to snuggle under and they watch a bit of the prime-time game. The taller man rests his head on his shoulder and sighs contently.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Cas.”

“Happy Thanksgiving, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually wrote this and the next chapter as one, but it made more sense to cut it here, and also it would've been an unbelievable long chapter otherwise. But as I only have to do a bit of editing on the next chapter, I'll update tomorrow or Wednesday.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone. Hope you survived the first days of the week :)
> 
> So, this chapter is probably the most intense I've written so far, so be prepared.

Over the following two weeks, daily routine sneaks into their lives again, but Castiel is glad that he and Dean still find the time to see each other regularly and even spend the night together. The sexual urge of the first weeks is over – although they still get each other off a lot – and more and more evenings go over with snuggling and lazily watching TV. He tries to remind himself that this still doesn’t mean they’re a couple, that it’s simply too easy to indulge in those fantasies with Dean. The status of their relationship not once came up after this first talk ages ago, but Castiel doesn’t initiate any conversation either. He’s too afraid that something would change, that he wouldn’t get to kiss Dean anymore.

Behind closed doors, Dean seems to be fairly comfortable with _them_ now, with kissing and touching a man. He doesn’t flinch, he doesn’t hesitate, and he’s often the one to lead Castiel to the bedroom.

But he can’t argue away that in between the bliss, Dean’s ease and comfort slip away at moments. The first time he notices it, they’re watching the news together. A gay couple needed to be taken to the hospital after being beaten up by a group of men when they were kissing on the street. Dean tenses beside him on the couch and his jaw clenches. Castiel thinks about talking to him, but the man disappears to the bathroom and after coming back, changes the channel to sports. He definitely doesn’t want to talk.

Outside the secure place of one of their apartments, Dean is withdrawn. Castiel understands it, he really does, it’s a huge thing to come out to the world, and even more so to, openly show affection. But sometimes, he still wishes they could hold hands or stand closer than they do now. It’s a selfish wish, because Dean is obviously uncomfortable with proximity in public. Here and there, Castiel notices how the man’s shields come down for a second, how he reaches out to him or nearly leans into him when they’re in a store or bar, but always catches himself doing so and overcompensates the time after the ‘almost-slip’. The apologetic look he gives Castiel shows that he’s in conflict with himself.

When he and Dean met each other, Castiel was supposed to be someone to talk to about exactly these topics, someone to help him come to terms with his sexuality in an _emotional_ way. His job would have been to show Dean that there’s nothing bad in being attracted to men. And now that this is actually what Dean struggles with, he can’t do it. He’s good at showing Dean things in the bedroom, but he’s too afraid to talk about what is happening between them because he doesn’t want to lose it, doesn’t want to lose Dean as more than a friend. He fails to help Dean because he’s simply selfish.

 

In the first week of December, snow is still nowhere in sight, but the temperature drops significantly and everywhere on the streets, people are getting into the mood for Christmas. Castiel accompanies Dean to rent a tux on the morning of the grand dinner party, and he needs a lot of mental strength to not get a hard-on in the middle of the store. Dean’s physique is unfairly accentuated in the well-fitting suit, and although the man fidgets and shifts a lot – he’s probably not used to slacks instead of jeans and this type of jacket instead of flannel – green eyes widen when he see’s himself in the mirror for the first time.

“Not bad,” he says, turning to Castiel with a smug grin.

Castiel unconsciously licks his lips. “No, not bad at all.”

There’s a moment of tensed silence between them, but Dean looks away, blushing, when the shop-owner returns from a backroom with a bow-tie.

On the way back to Dean’s apartment, they stop at a Walmart to get a new phone charger. Searching for the right one in the mess displayed on the shelf, they overhear a father and his son standing nearby, obviously searching for a phone case. The boy, maybe eight or nine years old reaches for a clear silicone case with flower imprint and turns it in his hands. Castiel notices how Dean watches the boy with a gentle smile. He really has a thing for kids.

The boy’s father, upon seeing the phone case, snatches it out of his son's hand.

“I’m not getting you one of those,” he hisses, loud enough to not only evoke Castiel’s and Dean’s attention.

“But Jake has one that looks just like this,” the boy counters.

His father’s face gets a dangerous shade of red, not out of embarrassment but anger, and Castiel swears he can see a vein pulse on his temple. “Yeah, and Jake also has two daddys. This stuff,” he waves with the box in his hand, “is for girls and fags. Are you a girl?”

Judging the way the boy looks down and answers with a low voice, this isn’t the first conversation of that kind he’s having with his father.

“No, I’m not.”

“Right, and are you a fag?”

There is no vocal answer to that, just vigorous shaking of the boy’s head.

“Good. Because that’s a bad thing. It’s disgusting.”

Castiel feels sick. There’s no other way to describe it and at hearing a loud breath beside him, he looks over to Dean. The man is tensed like a bow string and has a murderous look in direction of the father, who disappears into another aisle with his son.

Dean quickly grabs a charger from the shelf in front of them before making a beeline for the checkout. He doesn’t say a word; not waiting in line, not on the way to his car or on the drive to his apartment. Castiel knows that Dean is upset because of what they witnessed, and he searches for the right words to approach the topic.

“Dean, talk to me,” he says when they close the front door behind them and the taller man still keeps quiet. They didn’t even share a look in each other’s eyes since exiting the Walmart.

“I wouldn’t know about what,” Dean responds and bolts to the bedroom, probably to hang up the tux.

“Come on, you know what I mean.” Still no answer and even when Dean comes back from his bedroom, he doesn’t say a word or even look at him. Instead, he rummages his kitchen drawers for a scissor to open the package of the charger.

“Dean, I know you're upset about what happened in the store,” he tries again. This time, he won’t let it slide. Dean’s reaction is too strong to just argue it away. They have to talk, and they have to do it now.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Dean says, “Well, as you’re smart enough to figure that out, we have nothing to talk about.”

Okay, apparently, they’re now at the point where the man tries with fake indifference.

“Please.” He stares into the taller man’s eyes with a pleading look, hoping, no, _praying_ that it will reach Dean’s core.

With a sigh, Dean leans against the kitchen counter and crosses his arms in front of his chest. It’s a defensive pose, but at least it’s a reaction. “Okay, why?”

“Because I think it could help to – ” Castiel starts but gets interrupted immediately.

“No, I mean, why are you so cool about this?”

_What?_ “Cool? You think I'm cool with a father telling his son all this crap? Do you forget that I heard phrases like this on a daily basis from my parents?”

“But you're not angry.” Dean doesn’t tear his eyes away from Castiel’s now. Not even for a split second, and although Castiel wanted eye-contact the whole time, he cringes at the hurt and anger and… _fear_ in Dean’s eyes.

“I am angry!”

Dean huffs. “Doesn’t seem like it.”

“I just know it’s not changing the world if I let myself get dragged down by this. Some people are incorrigible.” Castiel has decided long ago to not let his own happiness, his self esteem, get run down by other people just because of his sexuality. So, yes, in a way he hardened himself against these sorts of comments, for his own sanity, but he will _never_ be ‘cool’ about it.

“So you just don’t care…” Dean trembles a bit. Castiel knew that with how he’d acted lately, this is a topic he struggles with, but he wouldn’t have thought that the man concerns with it this much.

“Dean, you don’t know what you’re talking about. I'm… used to certain views of other people. But that doesn’t mean that I’m okay with it, that I don’t care.

“Wow, used to be hated by people who don’t even know you, what a nice perspective of life.” he slumps more against the kitchen counter and rubs his temples. “I hate this.”

“Me too,” Castiel says softly, and carefully positions himself in front of Dean, laying a hand on the other man’s shoulder.

They stay quiet for a few moments, Dean’s eyes closed and his and Castiel’s breath the only source of noise.

“Why does this have to happen to me?” Dean says after a while, his voice hoarse, and Castiel is almost surprised to hear him talk again.

“What do you mean?”

Dean’s answer is so low it is hardly understandable for Castiel, so he asks again.

“Being attracted to a man! Why do I have to deal with it? I don't want to.” Dean takes a moment to breathe in heavily, like the air filling his lungs is the only thing keeping him from collapsing. The slight trembling turns into full on shaking and Castiel doesn’t know what to do other than running a hand up and down the man’s arm to soothe him.

“My life has been shitty before, I… I got a girl pregnant before she even graduated college, I can't maintain a relationship for more than two months, my dad's dead and left my mom in debt, which I had to pay for, and for which I didn't finish high school until in my twenties. I did it all because I had to… and because I wanted to,” he chuckles, but it’s not a cheerful sound, “because that's the one fucking thing I was good at. Being the strong one. And people respected me for it. I worked hard, and I built a life. I mean, it's not perfect, not at all, but I'm my own boss, earn a shit ton of money, I love my son and get to see him more often than most fathers in similar situations do. That’s a thing I can be really glad for. I am proud of my genius brother and for once, _just for once_ , I thought I was kind of happy. What have I done that the universe finds it necessary to punish me again?”

Dean looks away and Castiel guesses it’s because he doesn’t want to see him crying.

“You see it as a punishment to be attracted to men?”

“What else could it be? You said yourself how many assholes are out there. I don't want to deal with people staring at me, with people thinking differently about me. They don’t know anything about what I’ve been through, or what I’ve done, but they hate me for where I put my tongue. I… I _can’t_ do that. I never had to deal with that before… and I don’t want to.”

His chest tightens at those words. Dean doesn’t say it, but the underlying message still lingers in Castiel’s head. _I wouldn’t have to without you_.

It takes a lot of strength to hold his composure and don’t start crying. “Your family and friends wouldn't change their view on you. Why would they? Because you like dick?” Castiel tries it with humor, but it has the opposite effect of what he hoped for. Dean is biting on his fist in the desperate attempt to hold back more tears. Castiel's heart breaks at the sight of this wonderful man crying. A man who presses the troubles and problems of all the ones he loves on his shoulders, but thinks his sexuality is a punishment.

No more words come from Dean, just suppressed sobbing, and when Castiel softly brushes his hand on the other man's cheek, he shies away.

It’s the first time since they met that Castiel feels absolutely helpless. When _he_ had a breakdown talking about Anna, Dean had been there and said and did all the right things to calm him down and make him feel better. And for God’s sake, Castiel should be able to give that back now, but he can’t. He can only stand in front of Dean and watch the man suffer in his own thoughts.

“Maybe you shouldn’t go to that party tonight. It’s probably better if you get comfortable and watch a movie or so. We didn’t watch this week’s episode of Dr. Sexy. I could order pizza and we just stay on the couch, huh?”

“No,” Dean says after over a minute of simply staring down on his feet. “I have to go. It’s important. And – ” he hesitates for a moment, “I rather be alone now. I need a bit time to myself. Sorry Cas.”

Castiel doesn’t like to leave him alone like this, but he understands in a way. He also doesn’t like that Dean will go to that party, but on the other hand, talking about cars is probably the only way to get his mind off this topic for now. He kisses Dean on the forehead and quietly lets himself out of the apartment. They’ll talk tomorrow.

 

\----------

 

Crowley sends a chauffeur to pick him up at his apartment, so Dean doesn’t hesitate when he grabs the bottle of beer. He doesn’t intend on getting buzzed just yet, but a bit of booze to calm his mind is just what he needs. The day has worn him out and he’s not actually thrilled to spend the evening in a monkey suit at some posh party, but the prospect of a job from Crowley has him pull himself together. No one said he has to stay long anyway.

The property lies at the edge of the woods, shielded from the street by a massive hedge and wall. The driveway to the house seems to take an eternity. It’s a park, not a front yard, and Dean understands now why Crowley paid him so well for his work; The man must be swimming in money.

The chauffeur stops in front of the entrance and lets him out without a word. Dean really doesn’t know how to act in this kind of situation, so he thanks the guy and slips him a few bills as tip. When the door opens, he is led into the swankiest entrance hall on the planet, filled with people all dressed up to the nines. He becomes aware of the fact that he’s probably surrounded by millionaires and powerful figures, and he really feels like a fish out of water. Scanning the room, Dean searches for something to busy himself with and his eyes land on a waiter passing by. He grabs a glass from the tray and takes a sip. Champagne. _Of course it’s champagne_. It’s always been a mystery to him why everyone hypes this stuff, but for the sake of not looking like an idiot he doesn’t down the glass in one go.

Dean hears someone whistling right behind him and turns around.

“You clean up pretty well, Mr. Winchester,” Bela says with a smug grin.

Her dress and make up is anything but reserved. She always looks elegant and fancy but tonight it may be a bit overdone.

“You too,” he answers.

“Come on, I’ll introduce you to our host.”

Before he can even reply anything, Bela turns on her heels and Dean can do nothing but follow her into another room. She heads for a smaller group of men standing in front of an enormous fireplace.

“Crowley,” she says, interrupting the men, “Dean Winchester is here.”

The man turning his attention to Dean is not at all what he expected Crowley to look like. With maybe 5’8” in height and thin hair he still radiates authority and dominance. All covered behind a mischievous grin.

“Ah, yes, Mr. Winchester. Fergus Crowley,” he says with a strong British accent while holding out his hand.

Dean shakes it and returns the polite greeting. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“I hope you’re enjoying yourself so far.”

“It’s a… lovely house.”

Crowley laughs. “Yes, it is. But I bet you’re curious about what kind of job I have to offer, right?” At Dean’s nod, he continues “Well, let’s find a bit of a quieter place to talk.”

He excuses himself from the rest of the group and leads Dean through a few rooms until they enter what seems like the office. _Oh god, this guy really likes it pretentious_. Right behind a monstrous dark wooden desk, and an equally flashy armchair, he is greeted by a life-sized painting of his eccentric host.

“Well, I know it all sounds a bit shady and mysterious that I wouldn’t let Bela tell you about my plans,” Crowley says as he takes the seat behind his desk, “but I’m a bit prone to keep things suspenseful.”

“I figured so,” Dean simply says.

Crowley laughs again and points to a chair for Dean to sit. “But my offer is nothing special, and I assure you that it won’t conflict with your routine business. You see, I bought this property as my primary residence, but I travel a lot. And when I come back, I tend to take one of those beauties in my garage for a tour. I simply need someone who understands what these cars need to take a look at them from time to time to make sure everything will run smoothly when I decide to drive one. Old ladies like those need a bit of attention. You did wonderful work on the cars Bela bought for me, so you already know how to handle them and won’t have problems to get to know the other one’s either.”

Wow. That’s an amazing offer. “And how often would you like me to do the checkups?”

“I’d like to have it done a few days before my arrival back home. That’s probably gonna be every or every other month.”

So far, there’s nothing to say against this job. Dean loved to work on the cars for Crowley, especially the Porsche, and to get paid to make sure they’ll be just as beautiful in a few years sounds like a win-win situation to him. “Sounds good to me,” he says, “How much time will I get in advance?”

“Oh, I’m pretty spontaneous, but don’t worry, you won’t have to drop everything the moment I call.”

They decide to sort out the rest on another day, Crowley even calls his lawyer to let him draw up a contract. Dean guesses that Cas will probably take a look at it for him.

When he is about to leave the office, Crowley comes to stand in front of him and asks, “I noticed you came alone. No little Misses?”

“No,” Dean answers, “What about you? Is there a Mrs. Crowley?”

The man starts laughing again and rests a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “No, there isn’t. This sort of commitment isn’t an option for me. And a man like you probably understands best that the temptation is just too big when women practically throw themselves at you. You’ve got the looks, I’ve got the money. Both works just fine.”

With how Crowley keeps laughing, this comment apparently should’ve been funny, and Dean joins in, but it isn’t genuine.

 

The food looks great when about a dozen waiters fill up the buffet, but to Dean it tastes all the same. His mood hasn’t been the best to begin with, but the longer the evening goes, the more he sulks. He really doesn’t like it here and already wonders what would be an appropriate time to leave. After dinner, the guests scatter to all parts of the house, but Dean is satisfied to stay at the bar. This way, he avoids the necessity to talk to people, and even the bartender gave up to chat after one try at small talk. Crowley’s amazing Whiskey is all the company he needs.

But maybe it would’ve been better to join some of the groups or to find Bela, because at the bar, he’s alone with his thoughts, and they are practically just one topic; the shopping trip to Walmart with Cas. Dean downs more than just one glass to occupy himself, but it doesn’t let the thoughts vanish, they just get blurrier.

He jerks when someone pats him on the shoulder. It’s Crowley, and okay, he really doesn’t want to talk to that guy again, but as he’s going to work for him in the future, Dean smiles and tries his best to not sound as drunk as he is.

“Dean, don’t sit here all alone. It’s a party.”

“I’m just enjoying your amazing Whiskey,” he answers, hoping to be left alone, but of course it doesn’t work.

“Follow me, I have a surprise.” And with that, the small man turns around and strides through the room. Dean is more than confused but of course follows him.

They end up in another small room Dean hasn’t been in yet, and he’s still on the first floor. _How many rooms does this place have anyway?_ The interior is just the same as every other room so far. Dark wood, leather seats and a huge fireplace. Seated in the armchairs are a few other men, all puffing on cigars and glasses in the other hand. This couldn’t be any more clichéd.

“Sit down, Dean,” Crowley says and points at one of the armchairs, “My friends and I kind of developed a tradition a few years back. I like to treat my guests right, and it’s always been a highlight of the evening to invite some girls for our amusement. As the new one tonight, you’ll get to enjoy it first.”

Dean’s confused mind has a hard time figuring out what this is all about, and only when he notices that the woman standing right beside the fireplace is dressed a bit too revealingly for such an event, realization hits him. She’s a stripper, or at least that’s what Dean hopes is her only service. Really, what the hell is going on with these guys?

“This is Sarah. She’s a regular guest here and one of the best,” Crowley goes on with a smirk, “I assume you’re not used to this kind of things on a party, but believe me, it’s not unusual in my social circle.”

Dean just sits there, too stunned to say anything, as the woman – Sarah – approaches him and starts dancing seductively in front of him. This is so wrong. When she climbs on his lap, his pulse starts to rise, but out of panic rather than arousal.

“Relax, Dean. I doubt this is the first lap dance in your life,” Crowley says amused.

It isn’t his first lap dance, not at all, but that doesn’t make it easier for him now. It feels so wrong. She’s beautiful, but it sill doesn’t evoke anything in Dean. Sarah seems to notice that there’s not the tiniest bit of arousal in him and she starts using her best moves. When there’s still not even a slight twitch below his belt, Dean starts to panic.

_What the hell is wrong with me?_ He should be turned on by this, by her long legs, the curves in all the right places, and her long hair brushing his neck. He knows that this has always been his type of women, but now, Dean rather has the urge to shove her off. Why can’t he simply enjoy this? It’s the booze, it _has_ to be the booze, or the presence of Crowley and those strangers, because if it’s not that…

Dean feels his chest tighten, his breath coming out fitfully, and he knows that he’s about to loose it any second now.

“Hey, Dean, you look pale. Are you okay?” It’s probably Crowley talking, but Dean isn’t sure with how his ears are ringing and his vision blurs.

“No, I… I need some fresh air,” he stammers and stands up shakily. Sarah fortunately climbed down from him.

He doesn’t even know how he finds his way back, but suddenly he’s in the main room again and searches for a door leading outside to the patio. Rather unconsciously, he gets another double Whiskey from the bar and downs it right away.

The cold night air hits him in the face, but it doesn’t help to stop his head from spinning. _Fuck… this can’t be happening… It simply can’t!_ He leans against the balustrade to keep himself upright. _I’m not gay!_ Dean practically yells it inside his head to convince himself.

Why couldn’t he simply enjoy having this beautiful woman on top of him? Is it going to be like that from now on, because fooling around with Cas rule out sex with women? How is he ever going to have a wife when he can’t even get it up for a woman anymore? _No, no, no…. I’m not gay… I’m into men and women… I’m **not** gay!_

Dean jerks when the door opens and Bela steps outside.

“Dean,” she says with a worrying expression on her face, “Crowley sends me to see if you’re alright. Are you okay?”

He eyes her for a long moment, then steps closer and leans down to kiss her. His lips shut off her surprised gasp. When they separate, Bela looks up at him confused.

“What… Where did that come from?”

“It was overdue, don’t you think?”

Her eyes widen, “Yes, of course, but- ”

Dean doesn’t let her finish the sentence and leans in again. This time, he licks over her bottom lip and into her mouth once she parts her lips for him. It’s not even close to the feeling of kissing Cas… _Stop it! Stop thinking about him!_

He grabs her hand and drags her back into the building, through the main hall and towards the entrance, taking out his phone one the way.

“Dean, stop, where are we going?” Bela asks, but she doesn’t try to get out of his grip.

“I call a taxi and we drive to your hotel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, cliffhanger... But I just couldn't stop myself from doing so.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone. I'm back with another chapter this week, simply because I didn't want to let you wait too long after last chapter. I changed my mind on how I wanted this one to work out a few times, but I hope you can arrange with my decision.
> 
> Thanks for still reading <3

The first thing Dean notices when he wakes up on the next morning is the headache. He hadn’t even opened his eyes yet, but there’s this dull throbbing behind his eyelids. And basically everywhere else too. The second thing he notices is the feeling and the smell of the sheets. He can’t remember using a new detergent, so…

Dean jolts up when realization kicks in. This isn’t his apartment, it’s Bela’s hotel suite. The rapid movement wasn’t the best choice because now his head is spinning and aching even more, and it takes him a moment to piece together all the fragments of his memory. The events of the last night are blurry – another proof that he drank way too much – but some things he can remember. Like the stripper and his panic attack. He remembers the patio, kissing Bela and taking her hand to… _Oh God._

He lifts the blanket to look at himself. He’s only wearing his boxer briefs. _Fuck, did I really…?_ He doesn’t remember sleeping with Bela, but that doesn’t mean anything right now. If his head wouldn’t hurt so bad, maybe he could concentrate.

“Morning, sunshine,” Bela says, exiting the bathroom, “Nice to see you got out of your coma.” She’s already fully dressed for the day, and way too chirpy for Dean’s liking.

“Bela… what – ” he doesn’t get to finish his question.

“You want to know what happened last night. I’m a bit hurt that you don’t remember it,” she says, smiling smugly.

“Bela, please… I don’t… I don’t remember what happened after we – ” he stops, recalling the last things that come to his mind. They were in the taxi, making out in the back seat, then in the elevator. He remembers pulling the straps of her dress from her shoulders… _Oh no, fuck, fuck, fuck_. How could he do that? How could he…

“Whoa, Dean, calm down!” Bela sits down next to him on the bed and rests a hand on his shoulder. “Nothing happened. We didn’t have sex.”

It takes a moment for the sentence to get through to him, but it doesn’t calm him at all. It should, but it doesn’t, because he _wanted_ to sleep with her and that’s just as awful. It was Bela who stopped him, not himself. He would’ve done it… he would’ve cheated on Cas.

Dean struggles to fill his lungs up with air and his whole body starts to tremble, the realization of what he did looping in his head. _I cheated on Cas… I **cheated** on Cas!_

“I’m a cheater,” he says, barely audible but it’s meant for himself anyway. “I cheated on Cas.” He repeats it on and on, tears forming in his eyes.

“Dean, hey, look at me. It’s okay. Come on, breathe in,” she demonstrates by taking a deep breath herself, encouraging Dean to do it the same, “great, and now out.” They repeat the breathing a few times, and slowly Dean gets a hold of himself again.

“Oh God, Bela. I’m disgusting. I used you and I cheated on…” his voice breaks when he looks down at his hands. It makes him sick to his stomach.

“It’s okay. We made out, yes, but we didn’t have sex, Dean.”

“But only because you stopped me!” he yells, more at himself than at Bela.

She takes his face in her hands and forces him to look her in the eyes. “Yes, and do you know why?”

Dean opens his mouth to reply, but closes it again when he realizes that he really doesn’t know. So instead, he shakes his head.

“Because you weren’t in the condition to make any decisions. You were fall-down drunk. And also…,” she stops for a moment and turns her gaze away, “you called me ‘Cas’ when you kissed my neck.”

Dean’s eyes widen in shock. “Oh my God, I’m sorry, I – ”

“No, it’s okay Dean. I mean, I was hurt last night, but now I see that it’s about someone important. Otherwise you wouldn’t react like that now.” Her expression is soft while she speaks. “So, who is she? Or he?”

Dean can’t believe what an asshole he is. Not only did he drink his ass off and kissed Bela, he also said Cas’ name while cheating on him. He hates himself so much right now. “You could say that he’s everything I was looking for.” He chuckles, but only to hold back the tears from running down his face. _I’m so stupid_.

Dean stands up and grabs for his clothes, which lie neatly folded on a chair nearby. “I need to go, Bela. I… I need time to process what a massive asshole I am. And some Aspirin.”

She smiles softly at him while he dresses in the tux. “I can help with the headache. But you’re right, you should better go.”

“I’m so sorry. I used you and – ”

“Stop it, Dean, it’s okay. I’m fine. We all make mistakes.”

Dean huffs. Yes, everyone makes mistakes, but what Cas had to suffer with him is too much. He deserves every form of pain and punishment for what he has done.

Fully dressed, he’s about to leave, but turns around to Bela again. There’s still one thing left to clarify.

“It was a misunderstanding,” he says quietly, “When I told you that I’m into men, that wasn’t what I wanted to say. But it’s what came across and I didn’t correct it. At first because… well, because it worked. You stopped flirting with me,” he turns his eyes away. It’s cowardly, but he simply can’t look at her while telling it. “and then because I met Cas and it somehow became true. I’m sorry, I should’ve told you before.”

Bela leans against the wall, facing the door and Dean. She stays quiet for a moment as if she’s thinking about something. “What was the real reason to turn me down?” she asks eventually.

Dean scratches the back of his neck. “I… I wanted something meaningful. I was looking for a sincere relationship, something with a future, not a quick fling.”

He can see a shocked, even sad expression on her face for a moment, but she regains her composure so quickly, that he’s not sure it wasn’t just a figment. “And you’ve found that with him?”

Dean closes his eyes for a second and breathes deeply to keep the trembling at bay. “Yeah,” he smiles. _If Cas still wants me._

He turns around, hand already on the doorknob, but Bela’s voice has him look at her again.

“You know what’s funny? I _said_ I wanted just an affair with you… but I kinda hoped for more.” She shrugs, and Dean stands there with wide eyes.

So, if they just would’ve said the truth from the start… what? Would he be dating Bela now? All of this never would’ve happened? _I never would’ve met Cas…_

The cold feeling and tightness in his chest that comes with this thought simply confirms what has been ghosting in his mind from the moment he woke up this morning. He knows that he doesn’t deserve Cas, now less than ever, but while there’s life, there’s hope.

“Sorry, Bela,” he says and awkwardly waves at her for goodbye.

“Bye, Dean,” she says, “and don’t be so hard on yourself.”

 

It’s a well-meaning advice, but Dean knows that he can’t stop being hard on himself. He’s disgusted by how easily he would’ve ruined everything with Cas because he was too afraid to deviate from the path he set himself. On the almost two-hours bus drive back to his apartment, he has enough time to come to terms with everything that happened, and it’s enough time to finally admit how much Cas means to him. Retrospectively, he knew it for a long time already, but the fear of what it would mean for his own future, his view on himself, made him suppress it. He told himself, again and again, that Cas doesn’t feel the same, but when he really concentrates on the time they spent together it’s clear that they are a couple for a long time. And he ruins it all by cheating on him.

Dean takes a shower once he’s home, tries to concentrate on the steady patter of water on his head. He’s sick of making the wrong decisions, of sabotaging his own life for other’s opinions’ sake. He needs to talk to Cas, to tell him everything and bare his thoughts and heart. If Cas yells at him, punches him or throws stuff at him, he’ll bear it. If Cas doesn’t want to ever see him again, it’ll break his heart but he’ll understand. It’s what he deserves. But if there’s the slightest hope that Cas will forgive him, that they could start over and really be together, he has to take the chance.

 

\----------

 

Castiel stirs in his tea for a few minutes now and it’s probably already getting cold. He didn’t get much sleep last night, first worrying about Dean and then feeling stupid about it. Still wondering if he should’ve sent all those messages he typed but deleted again, he takes a sip from his mug and then goes back to folding his laundry.

It’s a lazy Sunday, and Castiel doesn’t do anything more than housework when around three pm his doorbell rings.

“Dean?” His smile falters when he sees the mechanic. He’s pale in the face, his shoulders slump and the smile Dean offers is just a poor imitation of what Castiel knows from him. He leans in to kiss him, but Dean trembles and shies away. Whatever happened that has the man in front of him in such a state, Castiel doesn’t like it.

“Can I come in?” Even his voice is wobbly.

Castiel nods and steps to the side. “Sure,” he follows Dean into the living room, “You want a coffee? Or tea?”

“Coffee sounds good.”

In the kitchen, he busies himself making coffee and taking a moment to collect himself. Something is wrong. He doesn’t know if it’s still about their talk yesterday or something else. He doesn’t even know what he rather wants it to be about.

When he brings their mugs back to the couch, he sees that Dean sits in the armchair. He _never_ sits in the armchair. Castiel gets nervous now and carefully hands Dean his coffee before taking the seat across from him on the couch.

“You had fun at the party?” He asks eventually.

Dean huffs and looks down at his mug. “Not really.”

“Was it Crowley’s job offer?”

“No, that’s actually amazing…”

Castiel sighs. He doesn’t want to tear every answer out of him, but Dean seems to hesitate to actually talk. It worries him even more.

“Dean, what’s wrong?”

Slowly, Dean puts his mug on the coffee table and finally looks into his eyes. For the first time today. It’s not a sight Castiel likes, because all he sees is fear and sorrow.

“I’m so sorry Cas, I – ” his voice breaks when the first tear rolls down his face and he averts his eyes again.

Castiel swallows and just watches how Dean struggles with whatever he’s trying to say. His own heartbeat speeds up. Is Dean going to end their arrangement? _Oh God, what if he really is? Maybe he doesn’t want to be with me anymore after our talk yesterday_.

“Dean, if it’s about yesterday, please think about it again. I know it can be hard at times, but we really don’t live in a time where you have to suppress your sexuality anymore. If you…” he swallows again, trying to compose himself, “If you want to stop the thing between us, I get it, but please don’t let yourself get dragged down by some homophobic asshole. It isn’t worth it, believe me.”

Dean’s head snaps up and he looks at Castiel with a shocked expression. “You… you think I want to end this? No, Cas, no, I don’t want that. I want just the opposite, but… but I did something really horrible. I fucked up. Big time. And I came here to tell you, but now I’m scared because you’ll hate me.”

Castiel can hear that Dean’s breath comes out shallowly, his voice trembling. He is relieved that the man doesn’t intend on ending their arrangement, but this is the most devastated Castiel has ever seen Dean and it unsettles him.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me. Believe me, there’s hardly anything I would hate you for,” he smiles, putting as much adoration into it as possible to make Dean trust him.

It takes a moment of complete silence until Dean eventually speaks again, barely audible. “I kissed Bela last night.”

Castiel just watches him, not saying anything at all, because he simply doesn’t know what. If this is the horrible thing Dean had done, it’s not as horrible as he imagined. But the mental picture of Dean kissing someone else still has him take a deep breath.

“At Crowley’s party… I got terribly drunk. It’s not an excuse, but I want you to know how it happened,” Dean stops for a moment and seems to wait for any form of reaction, but Castiel lets him go on. “Look, what happened at Walmart really hit me and I thought drinking my ass off would help, but it made everything worse. And then Crowley gave me a lap dance…,”

Dean must’ve noticed Castiel’s shocked expression, because he corrects himself immediately. “No, not like that, I mean… he _paid_  for a lap dance for me. The girl’s name was Sarah and apparently it’s some sort of regular event at Crowley’s parties… I really didn’t know what was happening, but they sat me down and she climbed onto my lap and…,” he takes another pause to take a deep breath. “And I kinda lost it. I didn’t enjoy it at all, it felt so wrong, and I thought it’s… it’s because I don’t like women anymore.” The last sentence is spoken almost silently, and Dean has turned his head away so Cas can’t even see him. He’s totally confused and has no idea at all what Dean is trying to say.

“So, you… what? You kissed Bela to prove you still find women attractive?” That’s the only explanation for Dean’s narration that comes to his mind.

The other man just nods. “But it’s more, Cas. I really freaked out and ran away from Crowley. I downed another glass, maybe two, I don’t know, and I hid on the patio… that’s where Bela found me. She wanted to see if I’m okay. And I… oh God, Cas, I practically threw myself at her. I wanted so much to proof myself that I still… that I still can _feel_ something with a woman and I – ” The tears are running down his face now and Castiel wants to simply hold him. But he also wants Dean to finish talking. He has the feeling that he’s still missing something here.

“We went back to her hotel… together,” Dean says.

It takes a moment for Castiel to get what Dean is probably not able to say out loud and a lump forms in his throat. He tries to act unaltered, but it’s hard to play around the feeling he gets when thinking about Dean and someone else together.

“You… slept with her,” he says slowly to keep control over his voice.

“No, Cas, but almost. I… I _wanted_ to, but she stopped me. Cas, I… I know it’s unforgivable, and it doesn’t matter how much I say I’m sorry, but I really am. I’m sorry,” Dean has a hand around his wrist, as if to keep him close, to keep him from going away. “I cheated on you, and I’m so disgusted about what I did and I – ”

“Dean,” Castiel stops him before he can talk himself even more into the self-loathing. “You… you didn’t _cheat_ on me. You couldn’t cheat on me, we’re not a couple. Not like that.” It hurts to say it, but it’s the truth.

“We are, Cas!” Dean’s voice is louder now. “Or, we were.”

“We made the arrangement to fool around, not more…”

Dean takes his face in his hand and forces Castiel to look him in the eyes. “So you don’t want more.” It’s a statement, but also a question and his pleading eyes make it hard to lie.

“I didn’t say that.”

With a shaky breath, Dean leans back and closes his eyes. “We didn’t just fool around, Cas. We cuddled, held hands. We did all that couple-ish stuff. We never talked about it, but come on, man, you know it’s true. All the things we did together… that weren’t just two friends who have the hots for each other.”

Castiel swallows. He thought Dean didn’t see it like that, and so he suppressed the voice inside that was telling himself it’s long since no platonic relationship anymore. He simply nods when Dean looks at him expectantly.

“See? And I knew that… all the time. And I still… I still cheated on you. That’s like the worst thing I could’ve done. It’s disgusting, and I can’t believe that I’m one of those assholes now that cheat on their partners.”

“You kissed her, Dean. You didn’t sleep with her. And even if you did, we… we never _talked_ about our relationship status. You never made any sort of commitment to me, so it wouldn’t be fair to hold it against you now.”

“What? Cas, no, that’s not true! I made out with her, I undressed her and I _wanted_ to sleep with her! Because I wanted to proof myself that I still can get it up for a woman, and that’s so low. How can you even still look at me like that?”

Castiel tries to tell himself that he really doesn’t have the right to be mad at Dean. Even if he’s right and they were a couple the whole time. But it still hurts so bad. He doesn’t feel betrayed by Dean. It’s more that he gets sick by the mental picture of Dean and this woman touching and kissing and… It tears him apart, because he doesn’t want to look at Dean right now, but on the other hand he doesn’t want to look anywhere else. He doesn’t want Dean to feel guilty, but there’s also this tiny little part of him that wants him to. Because if Dean feels as bad about it as much as he does, that must mean that their ‘relationship’ is extremely important to him.

“I can look at you like this because I know that you are much harder on yourself than I am. Dean, it’s not the end of the world.”

“I really don’t know how you do that. You talk like I forgot to take out the garbage. Cas, I did one of the worst things one can probably do in a relationship. And that on top of how I treated you the whole time.”

Now Castiel is confused. “What do you mean?”

“I made you hide what we have. I was so deep in the closet that I found Narnia, and you just went with it the whole time. You should’ve been mad at me for not even taking your hand, but you pushed me not once. I simply made all the rules and you followed without asking.” Dean stands by now, walking up and down in the small place. It’s like he’s trying to hammer it into Castiel’s mind.

“Dean, stop talking like that. What’s your plan? It sounds like you don’t want me to forgive you.”

“But that’s the thing here, Cas. I want you to _forgive_ me. But I don’t want you to just arrange yourself with me being an asshole. You should be mad at me and I should do everything to make it up to you, but first you have to see what an asshole I’ve been at times and then I want you to forgive me _despite_ my mistakes. I want you to make me swear that I won’t do it again. But I can’t just watch you looking at me like I’m the best thing on this planet. Because I’m not!” He’s breathing heavily now.

It’s all so confusing. Dean wants to be with him. Castiel’s heart jumps for joy, but he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to make it clear to Dean that he’s simply not mad about all those things the man explained.

“But I’m not mad, Dean,” he says, “I’m… I don’t like the thought of you and that woman together, but I know that it can be hard to come to terms with one’s sexuality, so I don’t blame you for struggling.”

“It still doesn’t justify to behave like a jerk,” Dean sighs and sits down again. “You know that my silly brain was so repressed that I didn’t even realize why I hated that lap dance? I thought it was because you made me _gay_ and that made me panic… that’s so stupid.” He laughs breathily and shakes his head.

“And what was the real reason?”

Castiel watches how Dean chews on his lips before his features soften and he shrugs. “Because I love you.”

He has read enough romance novels to know how the moment you hear those three words is usually described. And he waits for it. Castiel waits for the time to stop or for his vision to fix on Dean and nothing else. But instead of being paralyzed, he jumps into action and throws his arms around Dean’s neck, almost knocking over the armchair with it.

“You asshole,” he says laughing, “Did you have to give me this negative speech first? You couldn’t have started with this sentence?”

Dean looks more than confused when Castiel leans back a bit. “I… I really don’t know what’s happening right now.”

“I can tell you what’s happening. I love you too.” And with that, he closes the distance and kisses Dean with more force than necessary, but he sorts of needs to convince himself that this is real.

“You… you love me?”

Castiel shakes his head “Is that such an unthinkable thing for you?”

Dean grabs the back of his neck. “With everything I’ve done so far? Yeah, it’s kinda surprising.”

“Stop it. I really can’t listen to your apologies anymore,” he sighs and sits back on the couch, “okay, I’m not super happy about you and Bela, to be honest, but I see how sorry you are and I get over it. I’m more worried that you won’t get over it.”

“Because I’m a cheater, Cas.”

“I make a rule now that you are forbidden to use that word for yourself, okay?”

Dean noticeably doesn’t agree, but after a few moments he nods.

“Good,” Castiel says and sorts through everything he wants to say. “Dean, look, I still might need a few days, okay? It has nothing to do with _the-happening-that-must-not-be-named_ or any of the other times you ‘fucked up’,” Dean chuckles at his air quotes, “I love you, I really do, but if this is supposed to work between us, I need some time to think about it. That doesn’t mean that I don’t want to be with you, I do, but I need to figure out what I want _us_ to look like. I get it when you say we already were in somewhat of a relationship, but you’ll probably agree that we can’t just continue it like that.”

“Yeah, I know…”

“You should do the same. I believe you when you say you love me. I do, because I know that you don’t say that word half-heartedly, but I don’t want you to freak out again,” Castiel lays a hand on Dean’s cheek and brushes his thumb over the man’s cheekbone. “I know that you’re not ready and alright with everything just because you realized you want to be together with me, and I need you to think about what it will mean to you. Again, I would never push you into something. I’ll wait, no matter what you struggle with, but I want you to talk to me. No, I _demand_ it.”

He feels rather than sees the slight nod from Dean.

Castiel leans in again and kisses him. It’s sweet and gentle and with every last bit of emotion. He practically cries _love_ with the movements of his lips, because now that he knows that Dean really loves him, he wants the man to see it too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't sure if I should be letting Cas forgive Dean so easily. I wracked my brain about how I would react in such a situation and how I would interpret the "cheating or not-cheating" thing, but in the end I simply went with how I think SPN-Cas would react. I'm still not sure if this is the right way, but well, I want my babies to be happy together <3


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, I start the weekend with posting a new chapter. Hope you enjoy it, and for everyone suffering from finals this week: I hope it'll help you come down a bit :)

_I need you to think about what it will mean to you._

It only takes a few hours on Monday and Dean already hates this agreement to not call each other for a few days. He’s never been in love, not like this, and now that he took the courage and said it out loud, it’s hard to shut up. He wanted to call Cas this morning after waking up, he wanted to send a short text simply saying ‘I love you’ over breakfast, because he still can’t believe that this is all real. That he fell in love with a man, with an awesome guy like Cas, and above all, that his love is returned.

But Dean also knows that Cas is right. If he wants this to work, he’ll need to take it seriously. This is going to be a huge step, like _really_ huge. It’s not even the commitment that makes Dean nervous, it’s that he has to do one thing for it to be a real relationship. He has to come out.

Dean sighs and brushes a hand down his face. That’s a thing he can do, a way to proof that he doesn’t want to hide them anymore. Cas said he would wait for Dean and would never push him into anything, but to be honest, Dean is tired of hiding them. He wants to hold Cas’ hand when they’re out just like Sam does with Eileen. Damnit, Dean wants to _show off_ what a hot piece of ass his boyfriend is. _My boyfriend…_

He can’t stop himself from bursting out laughing. Why the hell was he so afraid of this? Cas is his boyfriend, he _loves_ him. Nothing stops him from being just as happy as in his imagination of an old-fashioned family with wife and kids. With Cas he _is_ , in fact, the happiest he’s ever been. And Cas is right, they live in 2017, if he really wants to have all that, no one stops him from having it with a man.

Dean blushes. Okay, maybe he should take things step by step instead of thinking about the far future. And the first step is to make it official. But how?

_Sam…_ His brother’s name is the first one to pop up in his mind. If he needs to start somewhere, it’s probably the safest option to talk to Sam. _That’s definitely gonna be awkward_. Dean really doesn’t look forward to talk _feelings_ with his brother, but there’s no way around it. And he’s kinda curious to see Sam’s face when he tells him about them.

 

On Tuesday and Wednesday, Dean nearly goes insane. It’s not like they never spent some time apart, but it’s almost torturing to not be with the man you love right after you figured out that you are indeed in love with him. He tries not to think about what Cas might be doing right now, but that of course leads to even more thinking about him. In the early afternoon, Dean decides that if he can’t talk  _to_  Cas, he’ll at least talk  _about_  Cas, so he calls his brother and casually asks if he could come over for dinner that evening. Sam doesn’t suspect anything, and they bicker a bit about whether they’re having salad as a side or not.

Dean doesn’t feel nervous until he’s parking the Impala in Sam and Eileen’s driveway. He takes a deep breath and talks to himself in the rearview to keep his nerves at bay. “Okay, nothing to be afraid of. They’re not gonna treat you differently.” Another deep breath. “They like Cas and they’re gonna be happy that you‘re happy. There’s nothing better than to have a boyfriend and a brother who get along.” It takes a moment for Dean to realize that it’s the first time he said out loud that Cas is his boyfriend and he’s glad that no one else witnessed it because his face twists to some really dreamy and cheesy expression. With a last deep breath, he gets out of the car.  _Go in and win!_

He carries it off well, trying to wait until after dinner to tell them. Dean watches his brother and Eileen attentively and his heart jumps for joy that he’s going to have all this with Cas soon, no matter who’s watching. This prospect is the last push he needs to take the courage to talk and he clears his throat to get the other two’s attention. Or at least Sam’s, who nudges his girlfriend when he sees that Dean has something to say.

“So, ehm… you know I love to have dinner with you two, but… well,” he stammers, “I kinda had a reason to come over tonight. I wanted to talk to you. It‘s personal.”

Sam and Eileen share a glance. “O… okay,” his brother says, looking at him suspiciously and also a part worried. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Dean assures them quickly and scratches his neck, “I‘m… I’m in a relationship.”

Eileen smiles. “Wow, that’s great. Who is she?”

Sam grins too and adds. “please don’t tell me it’s Bela.”

“No, it’s not Bela.” Dean swallows. Damn, why does this have to be so difficult. The whole day he swore himself he wouldn’t prepare what to say because he’d just go insane over it, but now he wishes that past-Dean would’ve at least thought about how to start. He waits for Sam or Eileen to say or ask anything else, but they both stay quiet and look at him expectantly.

“It’s Cas,” he says quietly, but immediately reminds himself that he wanted to stop being embarrassed about this, so he broadens his shoulders and repeats himself while beaming like an idiot. “It’s Cas. I’m together with Cas.”

Dean expected to see the shocked expressions in his brother’s and Eileen’s faces, but the way they are looking directly at him is almost hilarious. Eileen has a hand over her mouth but her eyes unmistakably show that she‘s grinning. Sam on the other hand seems to struggle with how to react, his face twitching between confusion, disbelief and happiness.

“You… you…,” the younger Winchester starts, pointing a finger at Dean, “you’re shitting me, right?”

“No, I’m not.”

“You are telling me that you and Cas…” he doesn’t finish the sentence, but he really doesn’t need to anyway.

“Yes. Me and Cas.”

“Cas as in dark hair, scruff and dirty trench coat?”

“You forgot the insanely blue eyes, but yes,” Dean says and huffs a laugh.

Sam falls back in his chair, his hands flat on the table. He looks utterly confused. “I… I don’t know what to say… I mean, wow.”

Dean chuckles. “Yeah, well, It’s kinda surprising, right?”

“Not really.” It’s Eileen, who eventually speaks up too, and both Sam and Dean turn their heads to look at her in surprise.

“What do you mean, it’s not?” Sam asks her.

“Just… I don’t know. I didn’t really have a suspicion that they are  _together_ , but come on, they were always so close when we met,” she shrugs, then turns her attention to Dean, “I’m so happy for you, by the way.”

“Thank you,” Dean says and smiles at her.

Sam’s head snaps up at that and he fixates his gaze on Dean. “I… I’m happy for you too, Dean. Sorry, oh God, I should’ve said that first, but I’m just… I still don’t get it. How long are you two…?”

Dean thinks for a moment before he answers. “Round about two months. It’s complicated.”

“Two  _months_? So... so the misunderstanding wasn't a misunderstanding, or... or what? I'm super confused.”

With a sigh, Dean watches his brother for a moment. It  _is_  confusing, even for him, but he guesses that Sam and Eileen need a bit more of information to understand how it all happened. He hopes that Cas is okay with him telling their 'story', but he simply can't hide it from his brother anymore. Not when he intends on making his relationship with Cas official.

“Look, Sam, I know it sounds a bit off. The misunderstanding  _was_  a misunderstanding, but after a while I... well I kinda noticed that I like Cas and that he's hot. Long story short, I kissed Cas and it triggered something. I... I wanted to… I don't know, maybe  _explore_  what this could mean. And Cas helped me with it in a  _friends-with-benefits_  kinda way.”

“Oh, gross, Dean. Please spare me the details,” Sam says as he screws up his face.

“Don't worry, this is just as awkward for me as it is for you.”

“It's not for me,” Eileen puts in, grinning as she rests her chin on her hands. The brothers can do nothing but laugh at the view. “So you screwed, and now what?” she adds.

“Eileen, please, can you not use that word in one context with  _my brother_  and Cas?” Sam says and looks at her with a shocked expression before he turns his attention back to Dean. “But I'm curious too. I mean, something has changed obviously, because you're pretty comfortable with telling us about you two now. And I know you don't throw around with such big terms like 'relationship', so I guess it's important to you,” he adds with a smug grin.

Dean chuckles softly and sighs. “It's never been like that with me and Cas anyway. We've done more cuddling, kissing and talking than anything else. But we never talked about _us_ , so...” he stops for a moment to choose his words, “so it took us a while to realize that it’s more. Well, it took _me_ a while.”

He looks down at his hands, wondering if he should tell them about his drunken slip with Bela, but decides against it. Cas would probably punch him for being hard on himself again. Dean huffs a laugh. He still can’t believe his luck. It might take some while to forgive himself for Saturday night but with how persistent Cas is about this topic, he will someday.

When he looks up again, he sees Sam and Eileen staring at him. “What?”

“It’s just...” Sam starts and smiles, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this. You don’t shy away, you’re not making jokes. Really, the last time I’ve seen you smile like this was probably when Ben was born.”

Dean remembers that day in every little detail. Yes, that was probably the best day of his life, and sadly, Sam is right. He wasn’t truly happy for a long time. But now he has Cas. “Maybe that’s because I’ve never been in love before,” he says quietly, more to himself than anyone else, but the sharp intake of breath catches his attention.

Sam and Eileen’s eyes are even wider than before when they stare at him.

“You _love_ him?” she asks just as Sam mouths something that looks very much like an “Oh my God.”

Dean laughs at the view. But he can understand their shocked reaction. It’s still so new for himself too. “Yeah, I know, it’s crazy,” he says grinning from ear to ear, “If someone would’ve told me a few months ago that I’m going to fall in love with a man, I probably – no, I _definitely_ would’ve laughed and yelled at them. But there’s no way to deny it now. I love Cas. And he loves me back, for whatever reasons.”

He expects a smug commentary from either Sam or Eileen, what he doesn’t expect is his brother to rise from his chair, round the table and pull him up into a bone-crashing hug.

“Whoa, Sam, it’s okay. I get it, you’re thrilled,” Dean says.

“I’m just so glad that you’re happy, Dean. If one deserves it, it’s you. And I’m gonna hug the shit out of Cas the next time I see him.”

Dean tries to loosen his brother’s grip a bit to be able to breathe. “Could you… could you maybe release me? Oh yeah, that’s better. Look, I’m really glad you two are so easy about this whole thing. I was pretty nervous to tell you.”

Eileen stands up and joins them, hugging Dean before she speaks. “It really doesn’t matter for us whether you’re with a woman or a man, Dean.”

“I know,” he answers, “but it’s still a huge step, you know? I want to take this seriously with Cas, because it _is_ serious and I don’t want to hide him. From anyone.”

“So, you’re going to tell mom and Bobby and the whole group?” Sam asks when they all sit down again.

“Of course. And I’d like to do it myself, so please keep it to yourself until I found the right moment, okay?”

The other two nod in understanding and Sam adds, “What about Ben?”

Dean sighs. Yes, of course he’ll tell his son too, but he’s more than nervous about that. How do you even explain to an eight-year-old that his dad is in love with a man now. Not that he or Lisa ever taught him that homosexuality is bad, Dean doesn’t even know if they ever had a talk about it, so he’s not sure how much Ben actually knows about the topic.

“I’ll talk to him, but I don’t know what to say, actually. It’s probably best to talk to Lisa first, so if he has questions he doesn’t want to ask me, she can be there,” he says. “They’ll spend Christmas Eve with her parents this year, but I pick him up on 26th for a few days.”

Sam hums in agreement. “Yeah, I guess it’s better to talk to Lisa first. But you’ll manage, Dean. Ben is a great boy, he’ll be fine. And he likes Cas, so that’s a plus.”

_Yes, that’s a plus_ , he thinks.

 

After another hour of answering Sam and Eileen’s questions, grinning from ear to ear whenever he as much as say Cas’s name, Dean drives home and falls asleep easily.

The next day is not very busy at the shop, so Dean can take his time with the car he’s working at. He strolls around the garage a bit, annoying Benny and Jo with his chirpiness, and when Taylor Swift comes on the radio, he sings along with fervor. He simply ignores his co-workers’ stares and even turns up the volume.

In the early afternoon, Benny knocks on the slightly open slide door to his part of the shop. “Hey boss, you’ve got a visitor,” he says and disappears again.

Cas steps into the room and closes the door behind himself. “Hello, Dean.”

“Hey, Cas,” Dean says, surprised but thrilled to see the man. It’s been only a few days, but he already missed him, even the trench coat. “What are you – ”

He doesn’t get to finish the sentence, because Cas is on him in an instant and kisses him deeply.

“Wow,” Dean says out of breath. His brain doesn’t function enough for further comments.

“You told Sam about us?” Cas asks, staying close enough to Dean’s face so he can feel the man breathing.

“Yeah. I guess you two met at work.”

Cas chuckles. “He practically _jumped_ me this morning. He’s apparently very happy about us.”

Before Dean can say anything else, he gets pulled in again and can only moan contently against the man’s mouth.

“I’m very happy, too, you know?” Cas adds when he releases his lips.

Now it’s Dean’s time to chuckle. “Yeah, I get that.”

“You really told him you love me.”

“Yes.”

“And you called me your boyfriend.”

“Oh yes.”

Dean is prepared for another kiss and smiles softly against Cas’ lips. His _boyfriend’s_ lips. “Judging your reaction, it was the right thing to do.”

Cas sighs and takes his face in both hands to look him deeply in the eyes. “Dean, I meant what I said. I would’ve waited for you to be comfortable with telling others about us, but when Sam talked to me today and hugged me, I was so unbelievably happy. You’re alright with him knowing you’re together with a man?”

“Of course, Cas,” Dean says, “I mean, I get to have you, I want the whole world to know how lucky I am to call Castiel hot-piece-of-ass Novak _my_ boyfriend. I told Sam and Eileen first, but they’re only one point on my list.”

Cas squints his eyes. “Your list?”

Dean scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, my list. I have so many things I want to do, Cas. So many things to make this a _real_ relationship. The first point was to tell my brother and Eileen.”

With a smug grin, Cas steps closer again and fists his hands in Dean’s shirt. “And what is your next step?” His voice is even deeper and more gravelly than usual, and Dean has to swallow. Damn, he’s so sexy like this.

“Give me a break. How am I supposed to concentrate when you look at me like that?” After a deep breath, he continues, “Actually, the second point on my list is to take you out. On a date.”

This seems not to be what Cas expected and Dean laughs softly at his surprised expression. “A date?”

“Yeah, Cas. A date. It’s a bit sad that we both said the big L-word but never went on a date officially, don’t you think? So, I’ll take you out. Dinner, movie, the whole package. Or maybe something else, whatever you like. I’ll dress up, pick you up at your apartment and hold your hand and everything. I can’t promise to have you home by ten, though,” he winks.

Cas stays quiet for a moment and when he speaks eventually, his voice sounds hoarse. “I’d like that.”

Dean grins and pulls Cas in for a quick kiss. They stay close when he clears his throat and says, “ehm, you know, there’s another thing I wanted to tell you. We’re celebrating Christmas at my mom’s house, Sam, Eileen and I. We’re having dinner together on Christmas Eve and I’m gonna sleep in my old room so we’re all together the next morning. I… I’d like you to come too. As my boyfriend.”

Cas takes a step back and looks at him in awe. Dean could swear he sees tears in his eyes.

“You… you want me to celebrate Christmas with you?”

“Cas, you’ve already spent Thanksgiving with us.”

“Yes, but this is different. At Thanksgiving, I was your friend.”

Dean sighs. “I know. But I really want to have you there, Cas. My mom has Mick, my brother has Eileen. I want the person I love to be with me at Christmas, too.”

Cas smiles softly and steps closer again. “So, you’re going to tell your mom about me, too?”

“Of course,” Dean answers as a matter of course, “She’s going to love you, really. And…” he stops for a moment, “the others like you already, so they’ll be happy about us. Oh, and you have to meet Charlie when she’s back from her convention-tour. Boy, she’s so curious to meet you.” He kisses Cas and pulls the man against him.

“I want this,” he points between himself and Cas, “to be a serious thing. You are a part of my life now, Cas. A really important part, and I want everyone to know it. I intend to keep you for a while, you know?”

“I intend to keep you for a while, too, Dean,” Cas says and smiles.

“Good,” Dean answers, again grinning from ear to ear. He leans in to kiss Cas again, circling his boyfriend’s waist with his arms to really hold him close. It’s bad enough that he denied himself to emotionally enjoy this for so long, he’s not going to waste any more time.

“So, what about Saturday?” he says after simply indulging in Cas’ body warmth and the taste of his mouth for a while.

“Saturday?” Cas asks.

“Does that work for our date?”

Dean feels how Cas’ lips curl up in a grin against his mouth when he answers. “Saturday is perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need all this fluff right now :)
> 
> Have a nice weekend y'all <3


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, another chapter waiting for you to read :) It's been mostly written on my iPad and barely proofread, but I hope it'll work.
> 
> Have fun reading it <3
> 
> Detailed warnings for sexual content in the endnotes

_Maybe Saturday was a bit short notice…_

Dean has several tabs open in the web browser. Movies are out of question, the only thing remotely interesting is Star Wars, but Cas hasn’t seen the last one. No concerts or shows either, but Dean want’s this Saturday to be amazing, not simply having dinner together like they always do. He thinks about reserving a table in a real fancy restaurant, but he knows that neither him nor Cas would feel comfortable in the swanky atmosphere.

_Damn, I’ve always been so good in this…_

He extends the search radius. There just has to be something special he can take Cas to, something to make this an unforgettable day. Dean sighs. After spending almost two hours trying various short word combinations in the search engine, he starts to get nervous. One might think it’s easier to plan the perfect ‘first’ date when you know the person you’re taking out more than just on bowing terms, but it’s not. He and Cas already have a favorite restaurant to go to together and a favorite bar for an after-work beer. They have a routine, know what the other one likes and dislikes. Dean has written a whole page of ideas for ‘date-night’ – two-sided – but this Saturday needs to be different from their daily grind.

Out of pure frustration, he looks up the weather forecast for the countryside around. It’s definitely not warm enough at this time of the year to plan much of outside activity like a pick nick. But it’s going to snow a three- or four-hour drive away.

_Huh, snow is romantic too_.

Within minutes, Dean finds something that catches his attention. It’s not really how he planned their date to look like… it’s better. At least he hopes that it’ll turn out like he imagines it. They won’t be able to drive back Saturday night, but that’s no problem as Dean finds a lovely, small hotel. Okay, maybe this ‘date’ gets a bit out of hand, but the thing is, Dean wants it to be cheesy and overflown. Not posh, or fancy, but he wants to shower Cas with affection. They missed out on so much in the last two months, but in a romantic, snowy atmosphere, he hopes to catch up on at least a bit of it.

 

\----------

 

Castiel’s fingers drum on his desk while he reads a file. He has no specific beat in his head, but restlessness took over his body about half an hour ago, when Dean texted him.

**> > Dean:** Hey. Got an idea for our date tomorrow. Little hint: you’ll need warm clothes ;) I call you tonight for another hint.

**> > Dean: **Love you <3

The huge grin on Castiel’s face hasn’t faded either in the thirty minutes, but luckily, he’s got only an hour of work left for today. What has Dean planned? The warm clothes imply that it’s outside, but he really doesn’t know what to expect. It’s been some time since he’s felt the thrill of anticipation like now. It doesn’t even matter to him, where Dean will take him or what they will do, Castiel simply loves being around this man. Well, he loves Dean.

Back at home, he busies himself with making dinner. Since Dean showed him some basic recipes, he spends more time in his kitchen for other things than simply heating up his take away. The stew is simmering on the stove when Castiel’s phone rings. He nearly drops the cooking spoon to get to his phone and pick up.

“Dean?”

“Hey, Cas,” comes the chuckling voice of his boyfriend through the speaker. “Sounds like you were waiting for me to call. What are you doing?”

Castiel smiles. “I’m making dinner. You’d be proud, so far it tastes amazing.”

“Oh, I bet it does,” Dean laughs.

They talk about their day a bit, but after a while, Castiel can’t stifle his curiosity anymore.

“Dean, what is the second hint?”

He hears his boyfriend’s laughter and can imagine how Dean throws his head back right now. He’s always very expressive when he allows himself to show emotions. “I actually wondered when you would ask for it.”

“Don’t tease me.”

“Okay, no teasing. I won’t tell you where we’re going, but prepare to stay overnight.”

Castiel frowns. “Are we staying at your apartment?”

“No further hints, Cas. But I’ll be picking you up around noon tomorrow. Just remember warm clothes for tomorrow and whatever you need for one night.”

This hint doesn’t give him any real information. It’s not like Castiel can’t wait usually, but he’s dying to know where Dean will take him. He knows though that the man won’t tell him anything more, so he doesn’t even try. The rest of the evening goes over relaxed. They stay on the phone while eating and later while watching TV until they both get too tired to really speak with each other and decide it's time to go to sleep.

 

Castiel shivers. The temperature dropped steadily over the last few days and his breath comes out in white clouds as he stands on the small balcony attaching his living room. It took him some time this morning to find his boots in his closet. He still has no clue where Dean is going to take him, but if his boyfriend expressly asks for warm clothing, Castiel decides to not take the risk and wear sneakers. He even found an old beanie in the deep corner of one dresser, and together with a scarf and coat, it hopefully will be enough.

When the clock strikes noon, he makes his way down to the front of the apartment building to wait for Dean, a small travel bag in his hand and the thrill of anticipation burning inside him. The traffic noise isn't nearly loud enough to drown the unmistakable sound Castiel hears when the Impala turns into the street and comes to a halt right in front of his feet. Before he can as much as touch the handle of the passenger door, Dean is out of the car to open it for him with a sweeping gesture and takes the bag to stow it in the trunk. Back behind the steering wheel, the first thing his boyfriend does is leaning in and pressing their lips together in a passionate kiss that takes Castiel's breath away.

"Hello to you too, Dean," he laughs.

"Are you ready for our little trip?"

"Yes. Ready, excited and _very_ curious."

Before Dean starts the engine, however, he plugs an adapter in his cassette deck and hands his phone to Castiel, who just frowns at the screen.

"That's the audio book you're listening too currently, right?" Dean asks.

Castiel simply nods when he recognizes the cover on the phone in his hand.

"Great," Dean sighs, "I wasn't completely sure. Just choose the chapter you're at."

Staring in awe at his boyfriend, Castiel wonders how on earth he deserves a man like him. Really, If he would believe in rebirth, the probability is very high that he's done something immensely good in a prior lifetime to deserve Dean. He must've been staring for quite some time, because Dean looks at him worriedly.

"What? We don't have to listen to it, if you don't want. I just thought... we're gonna be in this car for three to four hours, and you're not really a fan of my taste in music, so -"

Castiel interrupts him by grabbing Dean's face with both hands and pressing their lips together. "I love you," he says.

Dean laughs softly against his mouth. "I love you too."

 

Their going north, that's all Castiel knows so far. He stops looking for road signs about half an hour into their trip, and simply starts to enjoy the scenery passing by outside the window while listening to the audio book and feeling Deans fingers intertwine with his own on the seat between them. They don't really speak much, but that's not dampening the mood at all, if anything, it shows how comfortable they are in each other's presence. They passed a second state boarder some miles back and Castiel starts to get fidgety. He doesn't want to ask Dean when they'll arrive, though, because it's obvious that the mechanic put a lot of thoughts into this day and he really doesn't want to take away the surprise effect.

The landscape outside changes steadily and so does the weather. When the first single snowflakes come in sight, he looks up through the windshield and grins. "It's snowing," he says.

Dean looks over to him with a big smile on his face. "I know."

"So that's why you told me to take warm clothes. We're going out in the snow?"

"Kinda. But it's not about the snow, actually. It just adds to the experience."

Castiel looks out of the window with excitement. It gets really hard to contain his curiosity, but when Dean leaves the interstate and drives them over serpentine roads through the hills, he guesses that their drive will come to an end soon.

He is right, because after another ten minutes, Dean parks in front of a small hotel. "It wasn't easy to get a room in this area for tonight, but I just can't take you to a motel, right?"

"What's so special here?," Castiel asks, "I mean, the landscape is amazing, but that's probably not the reason."

"You'll see, I promise, but let's check in first," Dean says and steps out of the car, stretching his body. They've been in the car for over four hours and Castiel feels a bit stiff too, when he joins his boyfriend on the gravel path to the main entrance.

 It's a beautiful building, far more modern furnished than the outer appearance indicates, but it still has charm. A middle-aged woman leads them up to their room, where Dean lets their bags fall to the floor. "This okay?" he asks.

Castiel steps close to Dean and circles his waist with his arms to pull him even closer. "It's perfect. I still have no idea why we're here, but I know it's gonna be great, so relax, Dean." He kisses the man to emphasize his words. "I know you're trying to impress me, but you really don't need to." He feels the tension leave Dean's body and Castiel squeezes his boyfriend tight for one last time before they part.

"I hope you didn't just reserve this room for us to _sleep_ because of the long drive," he adds with a smirk after looking around the room for a moment. It's obvious that this must've been quite expensive.

Dean laughs and demonstratively puts something into one nightstand. It's not really a secret what it is. "No, not only for sleeping, Cas. But let me take you out on our real date first, okay?"

Castiel nods and soon, they're in the Impala again, driving through the now thicker snow. Their hotel is located on the outskirts, and when they arrive at the heart of the town, he finally has an idea what this trip is all about.

"A Christmas Market?" he asks, admiring the activities outside the window.

"Not just a Christmas Market. It's a _medieval themed_ Christmas Market," Dean grins, but Castiel can see a bit of hesitation and doubt in his face.

"It's snowing and we're going on a Christmas Market in a small town in the middle of the woods...," he talks more to himself than to Dean, because his brain still tries to piece all of this together. It's amazing, even from inside the car, and Castiel doesn't waste any time. He's out and about in no time, laughing as the thick snowflakes slowly cover his coat, and all but drags Dean out of the driver's side to join him.

The whole scenery is truly perfect, everywhere around them are people having a good time. The Christmas Market itself is framed by a town wall made out of wood, the gate even has a tower on each side decorated with banners. Castiel smiles softly at how much effort was put into the design. It's not really a big location, maybe fifteen stalls altogether, but every single one is different. Some sell food, other's offer crafted goods. There is a blacksmith, a guy who sells furs and a woman with a wide range of herbs. Kids are running around eating roasted almonds and chasing each other, couples walk arm in arm through the snowy alleys. Torches light up the stalls in the dawning daylight and every few steps, a fire bowl lets people gather around to keep warm. Castiel is tempted to call this place _magical._

He feels when Dean grabs his hand and looks at him with wide, green eyes. "You like it?"

"I _love_ it!" Castiel exclaims. "This is amazing, Dean. Really. How did you find this?"

"By pure chance. Where do you wanna go first?"

They slowly start walking around the place and stop in front of every stall. They watch a storyteller reading the Grimm Brother's fairy tales when he starts with "Once upon a time..." in his deep voice, Castiel _almost_ doesn't notice Dean hugging him from behind and resting his head on Castiel's shoulder.

About an hour later, they still haven't seen everything, staying at each stall for a long time to watch the amazingly good crafting. They shoot with crossbows on a target and because Dean _of course_  is a pro in it and places all of his quarrels right in the center, he wins a braided leather bracelet and closes it around Castiel's wrist. For the rest of their walk, Castiel keeps touching the soft material and smiles to himself.

When Dean insists on buying a quill for him and Castiel comments that he doesn't really _need_  it, just finds it pretty, Dean shuts him up by kissing him. For a moment, Castiel looks at his boyfriend in shock.

"You kissed me," he says.

"Yeah," Dean laughs, "not the first time I did that."

"But the first time you did it in front of other people."

He sees in the other man's eyes how realization kicks in and just a second later, a huge grin spreads on Dean's face. "Yes, I did. And I do it again."

When he leans in a second time, Castiel can feel his smile against his lips. He blushes when they part again and he sees the woman in the stall smirking. Dean straightens the beanie for him and plants a last kiss on his forehead before he intertwines their fingers again to walk over to the next stall.

They warm up around a fire bowl, drink honey wine and eat soup out of a loaf of bread, the snow falling slowly down on their heads. Castiel feels warm, and it's not because of the food or the fire, he feels so happy to experience this with Dean.

It's getting dark and they eventually make their way towards the exit. With Dean's arm around his shoulder, Castiel breathes in the almost intoxicating mix of snow, herbs and smoke for one last time before they take their seats in the Impala again. Sinking into the upholstery, he sighs.

“I don't even know what to say. This was... I really have no words to describe it.”

“Well, I take that as a win,” Dean grins, “but the evening isn't over, you know?”

The wink that accompanies this statement tells Castiel everything he needs to know. Fortunately, the drive to their hotel is short, but it takes all of his composure to not jump Dean in the hall. They smile at the other people they meet on the way to their almost outlying room. Castiel wonders if Dean selected it for this purpose and smiles at how his boyfriend planned ahead for absolutely everything. As soon as the door closes behind them, he turns them and pins Dean to the wood, loving the surprised but definitely aroused expression in Dean's face.

“I thought we could watch some TV. I even brought a few movie,” Dean laughs softly.

“Later.” And with this simple word, Castiel ends the discussion and claims Dean's mouth in a filthy kiss. He's been so good to him today, so now Castiel want's to reciprocate.

After a minute or two of nibbling and sucking at each other’s mouths, Dean breaks the kiss to breathe. He looks all disheveled and Castiel likes to see him like this.

“Wow, Cas, you go right at it. I actually planned on making it a bit more romantic in here, but we're kinda past that now, huh?”

“What was your plan? To seduce me with candlelight?” Castiel asks and starts nibbling at the other man's throat.

“Actually yes,” Dean says around a low moan, “I brought some tealights.”

Castiel looks up from his artwork of a hickey and looks his boyfriend in the eyes. “You're serious?”

“Yeah. They're in my duffel.”

_Is this man even real?_ With one last peck to Dean's lips, Castiel steps back. “Well, then let's make it _romantic_  in here”

“Could you maybe set the up? I go to the bathroom.”

There is hardly any time for him to nod before Dean breaks away from the door and disappears into the bathroom. Castiel sheds his coat and pulls off the boots. When he opens Dean's duffel to fetch the tealights, he chuckles. They're electric. Placing the flickering lights all over the room, he waits for Dean, but after a few minutes, decides to already get comfy on the king size in his underwear. With the ceiling light off, the tealights radiate pure romance.

Dean exits the bathroom in only his black boxer briefs, jeans and pullover folded over his arm.

“Thought I wouldn’t need it,” he says with a smirk.

“No you don't. C'mere.”

The blond man joins him on the bed and they kiss and touch for a few moments. Castiel let's his hands roam over Dean's chest as he slowly starts to lean over him and press him into the mattress. 

“This day was amazing, Dean,” he says while planting open-mouthed kisses on the other man's face and body. “I still can't believe that I get to have you. You're so smart,” _kiss_ , “so attentive,” _kiss_ , “so beautiful.”

he can feel Dean shivering and trembling under him. But he doesn't stop his ministrations and tries to convince him of how precious he is with kisses and touches. “I love you,” Castiel whispers in Dean's ear and the man's arms come around his back to pull him even closer.

”I love you too. I love you so much, Cas.”

Keeping his lips in Dean's body, Castiel makes his way down. He licks and nibbles at his nipples before he softly blows over them, he playfully bites into the tiny midriff bulge, and he ghosts with his thumbs over Dean's hipbones. The reaction he gets is fuel for his own arousal. The soft moans that escape Dean's mouth although he obviously tries to stifle them, the hitches in his breathing and the way his hands fist in the sheets. Castiel makes short work of the tented boxer briefs and teases his boyfriend. He goes up and down his inner thighs with both his hands and his lips, before he finally closes a fist around the erection in front of him.

Dean jerks at the touch and grabs for Castiel's wrist. “Cas, wait. I... I thought we could try something else tonight.” His voice is hoarse and he swallows.

Castiels straightens himself, straddling Dean, and smirks at the blushing man under him, before he leans in close to his ear again. “What would you like to try, Dean?”

He waits for the mechanic to say something, but Dean just looks at him with wide eyes, his breathing quickening and sweat forming on his forehead. “I... I thought we could... I though maybe you could...”

”Hey, Dean, it's okay. Talk to me. Whatever it is, just say it.”

But Dean doesn't talk again, he barely looks at him, so Castiel figure he might need to give some assistance. He leans in to place a soft, loving kiss on the man's lips.

”Do you want to fuck me?”.

When he gets no other reaction than Dean turning his head away blushing, he grabs both side of his boyfriends face and smiles softly at him. “Dean, do you want me to fuck _you_?”

Castiel can see Dean swallowing and then nodding, barely visible in the dimmed light. He kisses the man again and straightens his position. “It's okay, Dean. You really don't have to be embarrassed, but we need to talk about this.” Another nod. “Look, we've never talked about having sex like this, but I only never mentioned it, because I thought this should be a step for you to make.”

When Dean starts to turn his head away again, Castiel tightens the grip of his hands. “Hey, look at me. This is nothing to be ashamed of. I get that you're nervous, especially when you already thought about bottoming. I just want to make sure you really want this.”

Dean clears his throat. “I... I did some... _research_. And I think I'd like to try it. I don't actually know why, just... I want to know how it feels. Do you... what do you normally do?”

Castiel chuckles. “I usually top. Did some bottoming a few years back, and it's great, really, I simply like to top more. But that doesn’t mean I'd push you to bottom.”

”No, I know. That's actually why I'm not afraid to do this. You know what you're doing, I trust you. I'm just a bit nervous.”

”It's okay, Dean,” Castiel says. The image of Dean under him, of burying himself in this beautiful man, rushes through his mind and quickens his pulse. “So... does this have something to do with you spending more than ten minutes in the bathroom?”

Dean blushes. “Ehm, yeah... I kinda... Well, I _cleaned up_  a bit. I thought it's super unsanitary at first, but my research stilled my fears.”

”But you didn't use porn as a reference, right?”

”No! That's not realistic at all.”

Castiel chuckles and leans in to kiss Dean. “No, it's not.” He sits up again. “So, you really wanna do this?”

”Yeah, Cas. I trust you. And I love you.”

With this question answered, they move against each other again and kiss and touch wherever their hands and lips reach. Castiel uses his fingertips to massage the tension out of Dean's body before he slowly makes his way down again. He takes his time, making sure his boyfriend is not only physically ready for this by trailing his hands up and down his spread legs. When Dean's flagged erection reawakens, he smiles.

”It hurts less for the first time, when you lie on your stomach.”

”I know, I read about it. But I want to see you, Cas. Just take your time prepping me and use enough lube.”

”So you're the expert now?” Castiel teases. But he's glad that Dean decided on doing this face to face. He wants to see the face of the man he loves too when they share this for the first time.

Dean opens his legs wider and places a pillow under his hips, a clear signal for Castiel to move on. He opens the drawer of the bedside table where Dean intelligently placed lube and condoms earlier, and fetches the purple bottle.

He takes his time opening Dean up, not only to make sure not to hurt the man, but also because he is mesmerized by his reaction. With the first finger, Dean tenses - probably because the sensation is so new - but Castiel quickly strokes his cock a few times to help with the unused intrusion. And he builds up a pattern between pumping the digit and circling Dean's entrance. Soon, he's able to use another finger, using a great amount of lube and always asking Dean for his comfort. He repeats the pattern with two digits and crooks his finger to search for Dean's prostate.

Castiel is pretty sure he found it when Dean gasps and thrusts his hips down. Castiel rubs over it a couple times and smiles when Dean's hips never stop their rocking motion. He still goes slow with adding other fingers, but with how Dean moans and gasps and rocks his hips, Castiel need no further proof that the man enjoys this.

By the time he has four fingers buried inside Dean, his boyfriend's body is covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his cock achingly hard.

”Cas, please.”

Castiel doesn't waste anytime and grabs a condom. As it is, he already fears he won't last that long with how Dean looks under his hands. Again using a generous amount of lube, he coats himself and lines up with Dean's entrance. He waits for the man to nod in permission before he pushes the tip of his dick past the tight ring of muscles. Slowly, he pushes further, burying himself halfway in Dean. It costs him a lot of control to not just slam forward. Dean feels so good.

He hears a sharp breath and looks at Dean. “You okay?” Castiel’s asks.

“Yeah, it... it burns slightly... but it's good.”

”Can I go on?”

Dean just nods and throws his head back when Castiel pushes further. He still goes slow, but soon, he's buried completely, waiting for Dean to adjust. He had to fight the urge to pull back and just fuck Dean. But this is more than fulfilling his needs. This isn't fucking. He's _making love_ , and Castiel will make damn sure that Dean knows it. He leans down to kiss his boyfriend and let’s his hands trail over the thighs spread on both sides of his hips. Dean closes his arms around Castiel’s body, fingernails tracing patterns over his skin, and the slight movement causes Castiel to pull back an inch. Dean gasps and his fingernails dig deeper into Castiel's back.

”Cas, move!”

It's a request he gladly follows by establishing a steady rhythm of push and pull motions, forcing groans and moans from both their lips. In the ecstasy of lust and love, in the intoxicating sound of their combined breathing, there's no room for many words. But there's room for kisses and for touches. They cling to each other's body like their life depends on it. Castiel hooks his arm under one Dean's knees and the change of angle has him nailing the man's prostate. Dean bites into his shoulder, muffling the cries, followed by mouthed _I love you's,_ over and over again. Castiel knows that Dean is close, that he need just a bit _more_ to get over that edge, so he closes a fist around his cock and strokes him a few times until Dean tenses, throws his head back and cries out as he spills between them.

With his orgasm hitting him, Dean clenches around Castiel, who only needs a few more thrusts until he's coming too, burying his face in Dean's shoulder.

He needs a moment to take his breath and to clear his vision, but Castiel doesn't want to crash onto Dean with his full weight, and because he feels his arms getting tired, he holds the condom on the base of his cock and pulls out carefully, wincing when he hears Dean hissing. 

“Sorry,” he croaks as he ties the condom up and throws it in the direction of the bin he saw earlier.

Once he lies down next to his boyfriend again, Dean snuggles closer and throws an arm over Castiel's stomach to pull him tight to his chest while whispering inaudible things.

”You okay?” Castiel asks when he trusts his voice to function again.

Dean starts to giggle against his shoulder, his full body shaking. “Yeah. More than okay... _far_  more than okay.” He doesn't stop to chuckle for another few moments, then he sighs. “Oh, Cas. I love you. I love you so much.”

”I love you too, Dean” Castiel mumbles and kisses the top of Dean's head.

 

They don't get to watch the movies Dean brought this evening, but neither of them truly cares when they fall asleep and wake up next to each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: anal sex
> 
> Soooo, Yeah, these two are finally having their first real official date. I have absolutely no idea if there are this kind of Christmas Markets in the US, but I'm German and if I find a chance to write about a romantic, snowy Christmas Market, I. DO. IT. haha XD
> 
> Fun Fact: the Christmas Market is actually based on the one in my home city, but for the location of the small town, I kinda had Stars Hollow in my mind.
> 
> I'll be back with a festive, family-focused chapter next time. Thanks for still reading, love y'all <3


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all , and Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates it. Okay, big announcement. This is the last chapter. Isn't as bad as it sounds, but I'll explain in the end-notes why so suddenly.
> 
> Now, I simply want you to enjoy it.

With Christmas approaching rapidly, Dean notices how little time he has left to do all the task he assigned to himself. He manages to find a present for everyone in an insane shopping-marathon that has him so exhausted, he falls asleep on the couch. And although he complains about how packed the supermarket is in the days before the holidays, he still puts off getting the groceries, just like every year.

And then there’s the issue with telling his mom – and Lisa – about him and Cas.

On the Sunday he woke up next to Cas in their hotel room, Dean thought that he won’t ever again be nervous about them. He felt invincible – even with being sore in a very unfamiliar place – and wanted to go out to scream to the world that he loves Cas. But over the course of a few days, he manages to get all worked up again over… basically nothing. But he’s Dean Winchester, and Dean Winchester _always_ finds something to obsess over, no matter how unlikeable it may be.

In this case, his head fills with every possible disaster that could come with telling his mom and Lisa that he’s dating a guy. First, it’s the scenario that his mom would be uncomfortable with having Cas at their table for Christmas dinner, which is all sorts of unrealistic, but results in the misery of not knowing if he should still go to his mom, or celebrate alone with Cas. Fortunately, Dean manages to reason himself out of this nonsense, because it’s his _mom_. She would never be anything but supportive.

Then, another scenario worms its way into his mind; that Lisa wouldn’t like his bisexuality and might keep Ben away from him. Of course this is absurd too, but the mere idea of it leaves Dean fidgety for hours. After a while, he even looks up the current legal norms, and ends up feeling guilty beyond belief that he even as much as _thought_ about Lisa being able to do such a thing.

But in the end, all he needed was to simply look at the photos he took with Cas on their first date. Or at the hundreds of text messages they send forth and back, all the sweet words and all the cute emojis Dean would _never_ show anyone else. Because seeing this makes the decision easy. He’s happy, probably more than he’s ever been, and his family loves him and will welcome everyone, who is responsible for it, with open arms.

And so, he takes one day off to traipse round all the people who deserve to know about him and Cas. Maybe it would’ve been easier to write into their family WhatsApp group, but telling your relatives about your sexuality is a topic you better talk about in person.

The first stop is his mom. Dean calls beforehand and suggests bringing croissants for the two of them to cozily have breakfast together. She seems to be a bit worried when he mentions he wants to tell her something important, but Dean can easily dispel her fears. After all, it’s happy news, right?

Parking in the driveway, Dean takes a look at his parental home, all spruced up with Christmas lighting and garlands. He huffs a laugh. For over ten years, _he’s_ been the one to take care of the decorations, always making sure that, no matter how short they were on money, to bring a smile on his mom’s face with lighting up their home. And this year, he got a call from Mick, asking if Dean would allow him to do the decorating for Mary. The mere fact that his mom’s boyfriend had asked if he would mind made him smile. Mick’s a good guy. And he did well with the decoration.

 

“Mom?” Dean calls out when he enters the house.

“In the kitchen!” comes the reply.

He rounds a corner and follows the hall to where his mother sets the table. Dean smiles at the sight. She went overboard again with all the things she dishes up, and the croissants he brought look completely dispensable in between waffles and fruits, bacon and eggs.

 “And where is the busload of people to eat all of that?” he asks laughing and hugs his mom, kissing her cheek.

She playfully pats his hands away and fetches two mugs from the cupboard. “Yeah, I know. But it’s been so long since I could spoil one of my boys. I love doing this.”

“Sorry mom. We really should come over more often.”

With a gentle smile, Mary steps closer to Dean and cups his cheek. “I didn’t mean it like that. My boys are grown-ups and have their own lives. I know that and it’s good how it is. Gives me more time for myself too. Come on, let’s sit down before the bacon gets cold. _That_ would be tragic.”

_Oh yeah, that would be tragic_.

They sit at the table and Dean digs in. They chatter about this and that, mumble around food and fight for the last slice of bacon. A regular Winchester breakfast. Mary tells him about how Mick almost fell off the ladder when he put up the Christmas lightings and how nervous he is to spend the holiday with them. She smiles so brightly whenever his name crosses her lips, and Dean wonders if he looks the same talking about Cas. Probably. Well, most definitely.

“So,” she says after a while, her elbows rested on the table and her hands cupping her chin. It’s her usual _I’m-your-mom-you-can-tell-me-everything_ expression. “What did you want to talk about?”

With a sigh, Dean puts his empty mug down, still fidgeting with the handle. He doesn’t look up from where his look is glued to the table. “I just wanted to ask if it’s okay for me to bring someone for Christmas dinner.”

“And that’s your big concern you wanted to talk about? Of course you can bring someone,” his mom laughs gently. “Tell me about her. How long do you know each other?”

“It’s a man.”

“Oh, a friend? Someone I know?”

Dean takes a deep breath, bracing himself for his mom’s reaction. Whatever it may be. “No, not a friend,” he raises his head to look her into the eyes, “he’s my boyfriend.”

Mary blinks in confusion, but only for a moment. Then her expression softens and a fond smile appears on her face. She pours herself another coffee like they’re having the most normal conversation in the world. “What’s his name?” she asks. Her voice doesn’t falter and sounds genuinely interested rather than polite.

“Cas. _Castiel_ actually, but no one calls him that anymore,” Dean explains.

“An uncommon name,” she remarks, taking a sip from her mug, “but I like it.”

“Yeah, it’s the name of an angel” he says and smiles to himself.

“I always told you they were watching over you.”

“Yes, you did.” Chewing on his bottom lip, he continues, “So, you okay with him coming for Christmas?”

Mary laughs. “Honey, I’m thrilled to meet him. You want another coffee and tell me a bit about him?”

“Sure.” He passes his mug, grinning from ear to ear at how casually his mom took the news. She’s really the best.

“How did you two meet?”

Dean chokes on his drink and huffs a laugh. “Well, that’s kind of a long story.”

“I bet it is,” Mary grins.

He thinks for a moment, but in the end decides that why not? There’s not really an easy way to get around their story, so he starts explaining – roughly of course – how they met.

“He’s a lawyer. Sam introduced us.”

He tells her about the misunderstanding, about Sam arranging Cas as a helping hand for him. She listens keenly to his narration about all his slips and mistakes, smiling brightly at his attempts to apologize. Talking about it in hindsight, _hearing_ it in hindsight, Dean is stunned that he and Cas even made it this far. And he’s glad. Because there definitely were times in their acquaintanceship where the path could’ve taken a complete different direction.

“I know that Cas really had a hard time putting up with me and my… well, with me being chickenshit.”

Mary grabs his hands across the table. “Not chickenshit, Dean. I know you, and it must’ve been quite the shock for you to realize you _like_ him.”

Dean laughs. “’shock’ is probably the understatement of the century.”

“But you’ve overcome it. And your happy now, I can see it.”

“I’m more than happy, mom. I… I still wait for the penny to drop, you know? Every single day, I’m almost sure I burst with happiness. It’s just… I don’t even know how to describe it.”

With the most gentle and bright expression – a thing probably reserved for moms – she forces him to look her into the eyes. “I know what you mean, honey. I know exactly what you mean. It’s all I ever wanted for my boys. I’m really curious to meet Cas. He must be one hell of a guy.”

Dean laughs with his head thrown back. “Oh, he is, mom. He is.”

They clear the table and put the dishes in the dishwasher, going back to casually chatting.

“So, Sam and Eileen know Cas. Did you tell anyone else yet?” Mary asks while wiping the countertop.

Dean leans against the fridge and sighs. “He spent Thanksgiving with us, so the others know him. But… I brought him as a friend, so no one else knows about us being… _us_.”

“You know that no one will have a problem with you dating a guy, right?”

“I know. And the more often I tell people, the easier it gets. Actually, I’m going to see Lisa today, and Bobby.”

“I see,” she laughs, “Get it all over today.”

“Kinda.”

“What about Ben? You intend to tell him anytime soon?”

Dean scratches the back of his neck. “Actually, yes. That’s why I want to talk to Lisa today. I pick Ben up next week and I want to tell him then. But I think it’s something I need to talk to her about first.”

“That’s probably better.” She pulls him into a hug. “it’s pretty serious with you and Cas, right?”

“I hope so.”

 

With the feeling of relief and easement, Dean continues his tour. It’s almost noon by now and he calls the Roadhouse to see if Ellen and Bobby can spare a few minutes for him. He repeats his narration almost word for word, and their reaction is almost identical too. She hugs him tight, Bobby awkwardly pats him on the back and mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like “About friggin’ time.”. Ellen laughs at Dean’s shocked expression and explains.

“I had an idea that he must be some real special guy when I saw you letting him drive your car one night you were here for dinner.”

“Or when you tried a dozen different ways to decorate your pies for Thanksgiving,” Bobby adds.

Dean can do nothing but stare. “I… I didn’t try _a dozen_ ways. I just… I just made sure that it looks nice.”

“For Cas,” the old man grins.

“How… I mean… No one, really _no one_ figured that there’s something between Cas and me. Not even Sam. And you two barely met him and…”

“Call it life experience, boy. I’ve seen you having your first crush. I’m not blind.”

Blushing furiously, Dean bites into one of the fries Ellen put in front of him, despite still being full from breakfast. There’s no need for further narrations or explanations and because the Roadhouse starts to fill up with people, Dean says goodbye and gets into his car.

Okay, this actually went quite well so far. But the conversation he is really nervous about is yet to come.

The drive to Lisa’s house is a thing of maybe fifteen minutes, and fortunately, Ben still has school for more than an hour. Dean parks his Baby and gears up for yet another time telling someone about his relationship with Cas. Talking to Sam and Eileen feels like ages ago and luckily, his nerves got used to the tingly feeling by now and he strolls up to the front door almost calmly.

“Hey, Lis,” he says and kisses her on the cheek once she opens the door to let him in.

“Hey, come in. I made coffee, you want one?”

Huffing a laugh, he answers. “Yeah, sure. I won’t be able to sleep tonight anyway.”

And again, Dean sits down at a table. Again, he takes a sip from his mug, and again, he waits for his counterpart to ask the question.

“So, what did you wanna talk about?”

There it is.

He sits up more straightly. “Ehm… You remember Cas?”

“Oh yes, would’ve been hard to forget him. Ben didn’t stop talking about him after Thanksgiving,” Lisa says laughing.

The thought makes Dean smile. It means so much to him that Ben likes Cas – not that he’s surprised by it – because it’ll make it so much easier to tell Ben about them.

“Well, we… we’re together.” He looks closely for Lisa’s reaction, searches her eyes and her mouth for any changes.

She doesn’t react at all for a short moment, just stares back, probably while the information processes in her brain. “Like… _together_ together?”

Dean huffs a laugh. “Yeah, like that.”

“Wow. I mean, I didn’t even know that you…” she lets the sentence trail off and gestures with her hand.

“Me neither, to be honest. Not until I met him. And even then… it took me some time.”

“I understand,” Lisa nods, not one second tearing her eyes away from his face.

The attention makes Dean nervous. It’s not like he and Lisa have ever been something _more_. Even in that short period when they tried to be together for the sake of Ben, beside mutual sexual attraction, there has never been anything else but friendship. But still, talking about his relationship now feels weird. Because Cas is the most serious relationship he’s had since Ben’s birth, hell, _ever_ , and he intends on keeping it that way. He wants Cas to be part of his life, his whole life, so Dean is not only here as a friend telling another friend he’s in love. He’s here as a dad, too.

“Look, Lis, it’s not just a casual thing with Cas. I love him,” he says but stops when he sees her eyes widen and how an almost-grin crosses her face. “Yeah, I know. Everyone’s quite surprised to hear me talking like that,” he adds shrugging.

Lisa laughs loudly, “not surprised, just… yeah, okay, maybe _a bit_ surprised. But I’m happy for you, Dean. I really am. You deserve it.”

Dean can’t help but smile brightly and take her hand fondly. It feels good to be met with understanding and support by the people around him. It means that there really is nothing holding him back from enjoying his relationship with Cas.

“I’d like to tell Ben next week. I still have no idea how to start that talk, but I’ll find something. I just wanted to know if… well, if you ever talked to him about homosexuality.”

“He asked once when he saw two women kissing, so I told him that it’s the same as women and men who fall in love, but that’s been some time ago and he never mentioned it again. But I think it’s a normal concept for him, he never had contact to people who hate gay people. At least I don’t know anyone.”

Dean hums in agreement. Ben is a very open minded and curious boy. It’s unlikely that he has a problem with his dad loving a man. Kids tend to accustomate to thing more easily than adults. What a blessing.

“I don’t know what kind of questions he’s gonna ask you, though. You know how he is,” she adds.

“Yeah, I know. But he’s eight. Not gonna be _that_ awkward.”

“It’ll help that he knows Cas. I guess he’ll be quite thrilled to get to see him more often.”

Dean smiles. He pictures the three of them eating breakfast together, Cas joining him and Lisa for Ben’s school performances and maybe taking his son with them for a vacation. This day is a bit like an early Christmas present for him, not having to separate his family and the man he loves anymore.

It gets even better when Dean eventually says goodbye to Lisa and finally ends his tour for this day. He does some grocery shopping, picks up Cas from work and cooks an amazing stew for them. They eat while he tells his boyfriend about his day and they fall asleep while cuddling in front of the TV afterwards. In the middle of the night, his aching back wakes Dean again and he drags a half-awake Cas into the bedroom, lays him on the bed and carefully undresses them before tugging them in and resting his head on Cas’ chest, his eyelids falling close again.

 

With the cat out of the bag, it’s not really surprising that Christmas is absolutely awesome this year. It starts with Cas sleeping next to him the night of the twenty-third. Dean hangs up a mistletoe in the most strategical place in his apartment, so they end up spending a lot of time over the evening with kissing, every time a little longer and more passionate, until Cas drags him into the bedroom and pushes him down onto the mattress. Dean falls asleep completely exhausted that night.

With a bag full of presents, a freshly baked pie and a bottle of wine, they strike off to his mom’s place. They packed their clothes together in one bag to not carry so much single pieces and Dean grins when Cas picks up _their_ bag to put it on the backseat of his Baby.

Sam and Eileen are already there at their arrival, and Dean is tempted to fetch his phone to capture the moment when his mom sees Cas. She hugs the dark-haired man tight and welcomes him warmly in her home, then shoos them up to put down their stuff in Dean’s old room. He can’t help but laugh at the sight. His mom put fresh sheets on the queen-sized, but she also placed flowers on the bedside table, a new carpet in front of the bed and already heated up the room. It feels like he’s entering a hotel rather than his childhood bedroom. There’s even a small Christmas tree on his old desk. He’s only missing the tiny chocolate bars on their pillows.

It’s all such a sweet gesture and Dean immediately pulls Cas close to kiss him. “I still can’t believe I’m gonna spend Christmas morning with you.”

“That should’ve been my line,” Cas answers, interlacing his fingers behind Dean’s back, “I can almost picture little Dean running around in the hall, sitting under the table and so on. I’ve seen some scribbled drawings on the wall at the stairs. One sketch looked suspiciously like your precious Impala. Can I assume you’re the artist?”

Dean smiles shyly. “Yeah. I painted the hall a few years back, but mom wanted me to spare this part. I don’t even know how old I’ve been when I drew that. Five or six, maybe.”

“You had talent,” Cas says and grins smugly, stealing another kiss, before he starts unpacking their duffel.

 

Dinner preparation is a busy affair, but hearing Cas’ voice laughing and talking in the living room with Sam, Eileen and Mick, has Dean grinning when helping his mom with the side dishes. There’s no reason to be nervous and slowly, he starts to believe that everything truly is going to be alright.

“He’s really a charming man. And something for the eye too,” Mary says and tears him from his thoughts with it.

“I know. I’m so glad to have him.”

“I already love him. If only for making my boy happier than I’ve ever seen him. But I guess the more I get to know him, the more he’ll grow dear to my heart.”

Dean suddenly has to fight against the tears in his eyes. He knows that he comes across macho at times, that he tends to express his masculinity a lot, and that some people might say he’s superficial and likes to flatter himself. But deep down, he knows that nothing ever mattered more to him than his family, than the well-being of the ones he loves. In moments like this, he reminds himself that, although he had to live through some shitty years, he’ one of the luckiest man on earth.

“Hey, honey. You alright?” his mom asks concerned, cupping his jaw and tracing his cheekbone with her thumb.

“Yeah,” he laughs, a little bit hoarse, “I’m just getting sentimental on the holidays. I love you, mom.” He kisses her cheek and gently shoves her away to avert his face.

 

The rest of the evening passes by in similar intimacy, if less emotional, and they eat and drink eggnog and wine. The first time Dean feels the urge to lean to his side to kiss Cas, he hesitates, but Sam and Eileen do it, his mom and Mick do it, so he forgets his shyness and places a sweet little peck on his boyfriend’s lips. It earns him such a dumbfounded smile from Cas, that he immediately leans in again. Out of the corner of his eyes, he can see Sam grinning from ear to ear, so he demonstratively rolls his eyes at his brother, but everyone else at the table looks in their direction too.

“What? Are you going to stare every time we kiss now?”

“Oh, not forever. Just for a bit,” Mary answers, “You can’t deny us the fun.”

“Great,” Dean mumbles and they all start laughing. He knows that Cas is blushing at his side and he grabs his boyfriend’s hand under the table for emotional support.

After dinner, they settle in front of the TV to watch ‘Home Alone’ and then ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’, with Dean and Cas sitting on the floor in a bunch of pillows, never parting more than an inch from each other. Dean gets tired and rests his head on Cas shoulder, but soon, he starts to miss some parts of the film and eventually falls asleep. Cas shakes him awake and carefully pulls him to his feet, planting a soft kiss to his temple.

“Come on, let’s get you into bed.”

Dean mumbles something incomprehensible and nods, yawning when he stands up straight. Or as straight as it gets with supporting himself on his boyfriend.

“He didn’t get much sleep last night, I’ll better tuck him in. Good night,” he hears Cas saying to Sam and Eileen, who cuddle on the couch. Mom and Mick must’ve gone to bed already.

“Eww, spare me the details from your bedroom,” Sam answers and scrunches hi nose up.

“Bitch,” Dean says, but it turns into another yawn.

“Night, Jerk.”

Somehow, he ends up in his bed in his cozy sweatpants and a T-Shirt, Cas lying at his side and snuggling against him. The bright light on the alarm clock tells him that it’s almost one in the morning.

“Merry Christmas, Cas.”

 

Waking up to fingers tracing patterns on his stomach is probably Dean’s favorite way to start a day. The dark mop of his boyfriend’s hair tickles in his face, but he doesn’t care. If it weren’t for his bladder to make its presence felt, he wouldn’t move at all.

“Good Morning,” he yawns, stretching his hands over his head and knocking his fingers on the headboard.

Cas looks up to him with those insanely blue eyes and grins dozily. “Good Morning. Merry Christmas.”

Dean can’t help planting a firm kiss on the man’s lips, ignoring his morning breath. “Merry Christmas.”

He stands up and does his business as fast as possible, hoping that he’ll get at least a few more minutes under the sheets with Cas. Back in the bed, he clings to his boyfriend’s warm body and pulls the blanket over their head, completely shielding them from outside. They start to lazily make out, Dean kneading Cas’ back muscles when the man rolls on top of them. They giggle and barely hear Mary calling them for breakfast, only reluctantly crawling from under their soft cover. But it’s probably been a good moment to stop, or they wouldn’t have been decent to show up downstairs.

They throw on some clothes and race each other down the hall and the stairs. Dean almost crashes into the Christmas tree when he slides over the living room floor in just his socks, but Cas pulls him close not a moment too soon.

“Did he already corrupt you?” Sam asks from the set table, raising an eyebrow at them.

“Good Morning, Sam, and Merry Christmas. Your brother needed no time at all, actually, to have me under his spell,” Cas answers casually as they sit down.

Dean grins at his brother, who just rolls his eyes. When Mary and Mick join them with a fresh pot of coffee and a huge tower of pancakes, dripping with syrup, they wish each other a merry Christmas before digging into the delicious food.

Breakfast is lazy and cozy this morning. Without any kids in the house, they don’t have the need to get to the handing out of presents very fast. But after enjoying the diversity of delicacies and casual chatting, they eventually relocate to the living room and cozy up to the fireplace.

The air fills with gasps and _Aww’s_ , hugs and kisses, as they all open their presents. Every single year, they decide to not make a big deal out of it, but somehow, they never stick to it. Not one. So, Sam gets to nearly cry over Eileen visiting the animal shelter with him to pick up a dog, Eileen in return has to swallow at the first edition of her favorite book, and Mary throws her arms around Mick, the beautiful diamond bracelet sparkling from her wrist.

Dean is about to give Cas his present when the man reacts faster and holds a little box under his nose.

“Merry Christmas, Dean.”

He opens it and finds a small car model in a showcase. Smiling, he turns to Cas. “It’s an Impala.”

“It is,” Cas grins back. “But the real present is under the model.”

Dean turns the showcase around and finds an envelope taped to the base. He carefully peels it off and opens it, just to lose control over his facial expressions. His mouth hangs open and his eyes widen. He looks between the paper in his hand and Cas for a few moments, not believing it at all.

“Is that… is that what I think it is?”

“Yep. An all-inclusive trip to a race track. The operator lets you choose from several classic sports cars. They have Porsche, Ford GT and so on, and you can race on the track for a few hours. With pit-stop and everything.”

“I… I don’t even know what to say. I mean…” Dean is speechless. There’s no way he manages to express his feelings with words, so he basically throws himself at Cas and kisses him hard, both men falling to the floor, but he doesn’t care. “I love you. Oh my god. I can’t believe you bought that for me. Are you crazy?”

“So you like it?” Cas asks, laughing.

“Are you kiddin’? It’s freaking awesome.”

The others turn their attention to the two men, curiously looking for what kind of present evoked such a reaction.

“Wow, Cas. You kinda fulfill his childhood dream with this,” Sam comments, reading through the tickets. “He’s gonna thank you for years.”

“Oh, I will,” Dean says, winking at Cas. “But… oh man, now I feel stupid with my present for you.” He fidgets with the small box in his hands.

Cas grabs Dean’s face in his hands and smiles at him. “No, please don’t say that. I bet it’s amazing.”

“Okay,” Dean mumbles, handing over the present. He leans in to whisper into Cas’ ear. “But I’ve got another present for you at home.”

Cas looks at him confused and a bit curious before he unwraps the small present.

“It’s just a charm. For the leather bracelet I won at the Christmas Market,” Dean explains.

With that bit of information, Cas’ face softens and his mouth turns up into a bright smile. “It’s a bee. Thank you, Dean.”

They kiss again and Dean fastens the silver charm to the bracelet Cas wears ever since their trip.

 

After another few lazy hours in his mom’s house, they decide to pack up and drive home. On the doorstep, Mary pulls them all into a tight hug again and she whispers something into Cas’ ear before she waves them goodbye.

Dean and Cas already decided that they spend another night together at Dean’s apartment before he would pick up Ben the next morning.

“What did my mom say to you when we left?” he asks before opening his front door.

“Oh,” Cas blushes and looks down, “she said that she’s happy to have met me, and that she hopes we’ll see each other more in the future.”

Dean throws his keys onto the small table next to the door and turns around to place a kiss on his boyfriend’s lips. “She can bet on it.”

“So,” Cas says when they settle on the couch and stretch their feet, “you said something about another Christmas present?”

Wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans, Dean sighs. Somehow, he’s not so sure anymore that it’s even a good present. He really doesn’t want to make Cas sad on Christmas, but when he bought the painting, it felt like he simply _had to_.

“Ehm, yeah… it’s… I didn’t think it’s a good idea to give it to you in front of everyone else,” he takes a deep breath. “Look, just say if it’s not okay, if I’m crossing some sort of line with it, yeah?”

The crinkles on Cas forehead increase. “Dean, you’re making me a bit nervous.”

“Sorry, I… okay, I just get it and you’ll see what I mean, okay?”

He stands up and fetches the cloth-clad painting from his closet, setting it carefully on the floor in front of Cas. Dean steps back and lets his boyfriend pull away the blanket to see what’s under it.

“It’s a painting,” Cas says, looking up at Dean in confusion, who simply points to the lower corner. The gasp is shaky when his boyfriend recognizes the signature. “Oh my god.”

“I know. Cas, look, I found it by chance. I came by this store and they had it in the window. I liked it, but I didn’t really think of anything until I read the little card under it, saying the artist is Anna Milton.”

“How… I mean, why…,” Cas doesn’t get to finish the sentence, the tears are starting to fall from his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Cas, I didn’t mean to make you sad,” Dean says and rushes to his boyfriend’s side to hold him close. _Great._ “I didn’t even know she painted under that name, it simply reminded me of her and I got curious, because of the wings on the painting. I googled and found out that it really is your sister. I just had to buy it. The guy in the store couldn’t give me much more information other than that she must’ve sold it when she was already ill.”

“I… I can’t believe that you…”

“I’m sorry Cas, I know it was stupid.”

“No,” Cas says firmly, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand and grabbing Dean’s face to kiss him. “No, it’s… I’m crying, yes, but I’m so happy that you found it. Really happy, Dean. You have no idea how much that means to me.”

Dean sighs in relief. “You sure?”

“Yes,” Cas answers, mustering a smile. He lets himself be embraced by Dean for another few minutes, simply staring at the painting in front of him. The tears stop to fall, and his body doesn’t shake anymore, but Dean doesn’t push him away and holds him for as long as he needs it.

“I can’t believe you bought my sisters painting for me,” Cas says after a while, “I love you so much, Dean. More than I will ever be able to tell you.”

Dean smiles and kisses his boyfriend. “I love you too. And I’m glad I found it. Do you want to know the title of it?”

“Yes.”

“It’s called ‘Shield of God’”

Cas trembles in his arms again and he chokes on air. “Are you sure?” he asks shakily.

“Yeah,” Dean answers, a bit concerned at his boyfriend’s reaction, “why? Does it have a deeper meaning?”

“It’s the translation of my name.”

Dean’s eyes widen and he looks at the painting again. “Then…”

“Yeah. I guess she did it for me. Or at least named it after me. I… I knew that she made other paintings with the titles being names of my parents or my brothers. But I never found one that had my name… and now you found it…” He starts laughing under his breath. “Of course it’s you who found it.”

“Wow, I… that’s a bit spooky, I don’t believe in destiny or any crap like that, but… I guess I can make an exception here. It’s too romantic and cheesy not to, right? Like we’re meant to be.”

“Right,” Cas says and smiles up at him, leaning in to kiss him deeply. “Like we’re meant to be.”

 

They fall asleep that night just like they do for weeks now: holding on to each other and bathing in secureness, in happiness, but more important than anything else… _in love._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeahhhhh. I brought it to an end here. Out of several reasons.  
> But first of all: Thank you sooooooooo much for still sticking with me and reading this. I started writing this because I had some scribbled ideas from ages ago and wanted to finally put them on paper. I am so thrilled by the positive feedback and can't believe how sweet the comments have been. So, a big, overdimensional thank you!!
> 
> Now to the reasons to stop here:  
> 1\. The story is kinda over. I mean, the big goal got reached a few chapters back already, but I simply couldn't stop then. Now I do.  
> 2\. I'd like to concentrate on other works I have planned.  
> 3\. I fell in love with these two and there are definitely A LOT of things they could still face and stuff I could write about, but I simply don't want to just check off main events of their future relationship and somehow build them into otherwise unrelevant chapters.  
> 4\. Because there is still so much to tell about them (like Ben's interaction with Cas as Dean's boyfriend, or the two of them moving in together, and so on...) and because I simply like the two of them, I left it open to myself to come back at some point when I feel more like I satisfy my own requirements with this story.  
> 5\. BUT, in the form of timestamps then. And maybe you have ideas too, or maybe you'd like to know what happens to them in this or that situation. Let me know! I'm totally open to this. I simply don't want to pressure myself into constantly writing chapters with telling almost nothing in it, simply to make it a fluent storyline.
> 
> yeah... that's it. I really hope that I don't disappoint someone with my decision (if so, please try putting yourself in my place) and that I at least brought this MAIN story to some sort of satisfying ending.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr, come over and say hi if you want: https://riverchester.tumblr.com/


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